


Giving Up is Easy, But We'll Take the Challenge

by PanicMoon15



Series: Baby Mine, Rest Your Head Close To My Heart [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Kid Skye | Daisy Johnson, mama may, more characters and relationships to be added, papa phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 193,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicMoon15/pseuds/PanicMoon15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For eight years, Skye has been in and out of the orphanage. She's been branded as 'difficult' and no family wants a difficult child. Phil and Melinda are interested in fostering another child after their foster daughters, Natasha and Bobbi have grown up and moved out. It's been a long time since they've cared for a young child like Skye, will Mel and Phil be able to cope with the unruly eight year old? </p><p>Essentially a fic following Skye's life from the age of 8, when she was fostered by Melinda and Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Skye's Difficult

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Abandonner ? Trop facile. On relève le défi.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067472) by [DancingDaffodils](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingDaffodils/pseuds/DancingDaffodils), [PanicMoon15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicMoon15/pseuds/PanicMoon15)



Until Skye was eight years old, she was passed from pillar to post. Dumped on the steps of St. Agnes’ Orphanage at the estimated age of three months, and from then on for the next eight years, moving between foster homes and the orphanage. The babies and the small kids, below four, usually only stayed at the orphanage for a few months, at most. Cute kids shot off the shelves. All potential parents wanted a child that was young enough to be moulded and shaped into their _own_.

Skye had spent eight years on and off at St. Agnes’. She knew all the tricks of the trade. All the little secrets about potential parents, the ways the nuns talked about certain kids to make them sound more appealing. Kids in care were like puppies for sale in a newspaper. Mutts being described as pedigrees. They literally had ads showing them off, written in such a sugar-coated style that it made Skye’s teeth ache. She’d seem them all.

_Joseph is a highly spirited child. –_ Disruptive- _He has a wonderful personality and is very active. –_ Hyperactive- _He is a child who wears his heart on his sleeve. –_ Anger management issues.

_Alanah is a quiet child who requires a loving and patient home. -_ Anxiety disorder- _She has had unfortunate experiences in the past-_ Abused – _but is learning to cope well with what has happened. –_ In therapy. It’s not working.

_Sam has been involved in many clubs and activities -_ Sam has been kicked out of many clubs and activities- _and is very alert at all times, constantly ready to play. –_ Does not sleep - _He enjoys the company of others –_ Cannot be left alone - _and craves a loving family who can give him the disciple and stability he craves. –_ Severe behavioural problems.

The ads tended to be ever-changing as did the kids, but Skye had been featured in an ads for eight years with little luck.

Skye’s ad had changed a fair bit in her time from her arrival at the orphanage ( _Beautiful baby girl, Mary Sue, will be a gorgeous addition to any family…),_ to her toddler years ( _Mary Sue is a bright and curious child with a determined personality…),_ until the ad written for her at age five became Skye’s stamp by the state and the indication that everyone who had ever tried to get her a loving home, had essentially given up on her. She was taken out of the ‘pre-school’ section of the ads and instead lumped together with all the other kids who were too old to be attractive to potential adopters. She didn’t even get a photograph anymore.

She got ten words in Times New Roman in an alphabetical list of names in an archival magazine of kids in care in the area. ‘Poots’ came right in the middle. It wasn’t even _her_ name.

_Mary Sue Poots. Elementary early years. Experienced foster parents required._

That was it. Ten words. Ten words to describe little five year old Skye. Ten words that would describe her for the next three years. Even at the age of five, Skye knew what the words meant.

_Experienced foster parents required._

It meant what they had been telling her for as long as she could remember. Why all of her various foster placements hadn’t worked out. Why, despite her age and cute appearance, couples just didn’t want her in their family. Skye was difficult.

‘Difficult’

Every quarterly review they’d ever done on little Skye had the word somewhere in the first few sentences.

She was _difficult to cope with, difficult to diffuse, difficult to socialise, difficult to rehome._ Mary Sue Poots was just _difficult_. And no one wanted a kid that was difficult. Of that Skye was certain.

Or so she thought.

….

When Abby, turned up at St. Agnes’ at 2pm on a Saturday in October, the kids in the rec room dropped whatever they were doing and flocked around the woman like baby chicks.

“Abby look at how I can write my name now!”

“Have you found me a forever family yet, Abby?”

Abby was a social worker.

“Is my Mommy coming to get me, Abby. Did you give her my card that I made?”

“I was good at school this week, Abby. I promise. Tell them to write in my report that I was good!”

Abby didn’t answer their questions. She high-fived the older kids and hugged the younger ones. She told them that she was very busy and she was working hard for all of them to find them homes.

Skye didn’t believe that, and yet there she was with the rest of the kids, pushing her way to the front of the crowd to tug on Abby’s sleeve. Abby smiled brightly at her then turned to one of the little boys to give him a fist-bump. He squealed in delight.

She only worked with about a third of the kids at the orphanage, there was another four who turned up every now and then, though Abby held the majority, but it didn’t matter _which_ social worker had come to see them. All that mattered was that _a_ social worker had arrived. Because if a social worker was there and she didn’t have a child with her, then it was only good news- she was taking someone away with her.

Abby left the rec room with one of the nuns and the kids gradually dissipated and went back to their original activities.

For few minutes, Skye hung around by the door to the offices with a few of the other kids, in the hope Abby would return and have some good news for them, but that only lasted five minutes, before she gave up. She glanced at the clock on the far wall. At least Skye thought it was five minutes; telling time was still something Skye had yet to grasp.

Leaving a few of the others by their post at the door, Skye moved over to the corner of the rec room and sat by the bookcase on some of the brightly coloured, oversized cushions. She didn’t really like reading, it was hard, and when she couldn’t read some of the big words her teacher at school got angry, so instead Skye just pretended to read _Matilda_ and kept an eye on the door where Abby had left with Sister Jane.

“Thkye.” A four year old boy by the name of Owen toddled over with a jigsaw puzzle box under one arm, and pulled at the hem of Skye’s hoodie. She ignored him. “ _Thkye_ ” he whined insistently around his thumb, letting the box drop to the ground next to her feet.

“It’s _Skye_.” She grumbled, irritably. It was almost impossible to get even a few minutes peace in a place with nearly fifty kids constantly prying in on her business, even if Skye _was_ only pretending to read. “If you would stop sucking your thumb for two seconds then maybe people would know what you were saying.” Skye huffed. At least she only sucked her thumb when no one was looking.

Owen watched her with wet, angry eyes, he was a crier. Skye sighed. She hadn’t _meant_ to make him cry, but like all the kids, the longer Abby was in the office for, the more agitated she got. Owen’s frown deepened as the first fat tear escaped his eyes, and in a rage, kicked Skye hard in the shin.

“Ow!” She hissed. “What the hell was that for you little brat?” Skye rubbed her shin and gritted her teeth to stop the pricking in her eyes. “That _really_ _hurt_.”

Owen sniffled. “You’re mean Thkye. ‘M telllin’ thither Margaret.”

“No!” Skye cried, attracting a few glares from some of the older kids who were _actually_ reading. “No, don’t.” She said more quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be grumpy, Owen. Please, please, _please_ don’t tell Sister Margaret.” Skye pled with the little boy, but the damage was done, he was already pattering over to the older nun to tell on her. “Fine!” She called after him. “I’ll just tell her how you kicked me!”

Owen didn’t look back.

Skye watched from the sanctity of the reading corner, as Owen pointed to her and rubbed at his eyes. Skye didn’t need to be able to read lips to know he was embellishing the story. Sister Margaret’s face said it all. Owen was a favourite of the nuns; cute and just whiny enough to stay on their radars without being too annoying. She had no chance, even if he had kicked her.

Sister Margaret caught Skye’s eye, and beckoned her over to where she was sat at her desk, with a crooked finger. For a brief second, Skye considered blatantly ignoring the woman, but she already had four behavioural reports this week and ignoring her would just get her into even more trouble.

Skye stood and walked over to the desk. Owen was no longer crying, but he snivelled away on Sister Margaret’s side of the desk, sucking his thumb and leaning his head on her elbow pathetically. Skye glared at him.

Sister Margaret sighed heavily and laced her fingers together on the top of her desk. Skye looked down at the half completed crossword and the cold cup of tea on the table top. “Now, Mary-,”

Skye’s head whipped up. “It’s _Skye_.” She protested.

Sister Margaret rolled her eyes. “ _Mary_ , would you care to explain to me why you were bullying a baby?” She stroked a hand over Owen’s dark hair.

“He’s not a baby. He’s nearly _five_.” Skye said incredulously. “There are kids his age who can read.”

“And there are children _your_ age, Mary, who can read, too. But you’re not one of them now, are you?” Sister Margaret said sweetly.

Skye felt her cheeks burn. It wasn’t _her_ fault if she was stupid. Reading was hard. She looked back at the cold tea and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the burning behind them. “I can read.” Skye mumbled.

“Not well, dear. Now tell me why you were bullying Owen, here. You know we don’t tolerate bullies here at St. Agnes’”

Skye scoffed. “I wasn’t _bullying_ him.” She looked up at Sister Margaret earnestly, desperately hoping she’d believe her. “I was a little bit mean but I said sorry right after, I swear I did! Tell her, Owen!”

Owen hid his face in Sister Margaret’s cardigan.

“Mary Sue-,”

“ _Skye.”_

_“Mary Sue._ No more free time until the end of next week-,”

“What? But he _kicked me_! And-,”

“ _And_ I’m giving you another behavioural report for you to take to the office.” Sister Margaret began writing out the pink strip of paper. “Five this week is not a good way to go, Mary.” She ripped the slip out of the pad and handed it over to Skye, lacing her hands together again and smiling at her. “No parents want a child who is difficult.”

Skye glared at the older woman, biting the inside of her mouth to stop the angry words she wanted to say, from escaping. Owen was smirking around his thumb. He cuddled into Sister Margaret’s side, and she lifted him into her lap and cuddled him closer.

The nuns had never hugged _her_ like that.

Owen eyed Skye, smirked, then whimpered and hid his face in the nun’s shoulder.

“Oh, little man, I know you’re upset because of Mary, but it’s alright.” Sister Margaret opened a desk drawer, rummaged for a second and pulled out a blue pacifier. She offered it to the almost five-year-old and he grabbed it off her, stuffing the teat into his mouth. “Get yourself off to the office with that behavioural write up, Mary.” She instructed.

“I guess you _are_ a baby.” Skye mumbled at Owen, gripping the paper.

Sister Margaret smiled. “At least _he_ doesn’t wet the bed.”

With tears in her eyes and her behavioural report clutched in her hands, Skye took off in the direction of the office. Her chest felt tight and her shoulders shook as a sob escaped her.

…

“Are you absolutely _sure_ you want to take a child on like her?” Sister Jane asked the couple for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

Phil nodded. “Yes. As I’ve assured you, Melinda and I have plenty of experience with challenging children, and from what Abby has told us, this little girl deserves the chance at a long-term home.”

“You understand why she has yet to procure a long-term placement?” Sister Jane asked, looking from Melinda to Phil. “Her behaviour has never been wonderful,” the woman said, shaking her head, “but just look at her file. I’m not even sure we can cope with her here.”

“All the more reason for us to take her home.” Melinda replied dryly. She had never liked Sister Jane all that much and their current conversation was doing nothing to stem her distaste for the nun.

“Listen,” Abby the social worker interrupted, “ultimately, _I_ am the person who gets to make the decision regarding the child. As her social worker, it has been my responsibility to provide this child with the opportunities for a loving home, and so far, I have failed her.”

Abby lifted the hefty file from the desk and handed it to Phil before continuing. “I agree that she can be a handful, and that in recent months since returning from a particularly bad placement, for which I fully blame myself, that her behaviour has worsened significantly,” Sister Jane nodded enthusiastically in agreement and Abby rolled her eyes, “ _however,_ what this little girl needs is a loving and stable home, or the way things are going, she is going to be locked in the foster system until she’s old enough to end up on the streets or in prison.”

The three others in the room stared at Abby as she finished her rant. The social worker shrugged.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She said. No one corrected her. “Inexperienced foster parents would not be able to cope, I understand this,” she turned to Sister Jane, “but I am confident that Phil and Melinda will be able to take care of her, and give her a better chance in life.”

Sister Jane sighed heavily, leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Well, you two _did_ manage to tame the Russian…”

“ _Natasha_ ” Melinda growled. “She’s called _Natasha_.”

“Yes,” the sister agreed, “and you managed to put up with her for four years, so I’m sure you’ll be able to cope with this one.”

“Actually,” Phil said, “we’ve had the _absolute pleasure_ of being Natasha’s care takers for five years. Just because she went to college last year, that does not mean we are no longer her parents.”

Sister Jane looked surprised for a moment, and opened her mouth to reply, but a knock resounded on the door, brining her out of her stupor.

“Come in.” She called.

All the adults turned to the door as it was pushed open, and a small scraggly, dark haired girl eased her way into the room. She wiped furiously at her eyes.

“Ah,” Sister Jane smiled, “Mary Sue, just in time.”

“In time for what?” For little girl asked timidly, eyeing the two strangers.

“We’ll cross that bridge in a moment.” Sister Jane replied. “Firstly, why are you here?”

Skye handed over the pink slip to the nun, sidling closer to Abby than the strange couple.

Sister Jane tutted. “Oh dear, Mary Sue. Five in one week. And _this_ time for bullying a younger child?”

“But it wasn’t my fault.” Skye protested. “Look, _he_ kicked _me_.” She pulled up the leg of her jeans to show off the visible bump on her shin.

“Oh, sweetie, that looks like it hurts.” Phil said to the little girl.

“It does.” Skye mumbled shyly.

“Don’t encourage her, Mr Coulson. As I’ve said, this one is a problem. Won’t even react to her own name recently.” The Sister shook her head.

Skye glared at her angrily. “Because it’s not _my_ name. I told you I wanted to pick my own name, and I picked ‘Skye’.”

“Like I said,” Sister Jane said dryly, “a problem.”

“Well, she won’t have be _your_ problem for long.” Melinda muttered.

Skye frowned, looking between the adults. “Can I go now?” She asked. “Sister Margaret already said I get no more free time for a week.”

“Actually, honey, I’m glad you’re here.” Abby said kindly. “Why do you think I’m here today?”

Skye looked at her questioningly. “I thought you were gonna take someone away ‘cos you didn’t bring anyone with you.”

“Well, that’s right, Mary.” Abby smiled.

“It’s Skye.” Skye reminded the social worker. “It’s not Owen, is it?” Skye asked with a grimace, and Melinda had to hide a smirk. “Actually,” Skye reconsidered, “you can take him. I don’t care where he goes, as long I don’t have to see him everyday.”

Abby laughed. “Good news, Skye, you won’t have to see Owen everyday.”

Skye’s eyes widened. “You’re taking him away?”

“No, honey, you’re going to a new home.”

“ _Me_?” Skye asked quietly.

“Yes.” Abby grinned. “Mr and Mrs Coulson would like to foster you.”

Skye turned to the couple, who both smiled at her kindly. “I get to go home with you?”

“Only if you’d like to.” Phil said.

Skye was taken aback. She’s never really been given the choice before. The little girl leaned over to Abby and whispered not-so-quietly in her ear.

“Are they nice?”

“Yes. I promise.” Abby said.

Skye frowned. “You promised that last time.”

Abby placed a hand on the little girl’s head and smiled sadly. “I know, and I truly believed their family was going to be perfect for you, but I admit that I was wrong.” She turned to Phil and Melinda. “But Mr and Mrs Coulson have taken care of children before, and they come highly recommended from their previous foster kids. They’ve been wanting another child to foster since their most recent foster daughter left.”

Skye straightened, folding her arms, gaining some of the spunkiness that had been getting her into trouble recently. She turned to Melinda and Phil.

“If you’re so nice, how come you don’t got any more foster kids, huh?”

Melinda grinned at the little girl’s bravado. “She went to college last year, but she still comes home in the breaks.”

“Oh.” Skye said. “Okay, then.”

“So, Skye, is it?” Phil asked.

“Yes.” She assured. “My name is _Skye_.” The child eyed Sister Jane.

“So, Skye,” Phil grinned, “would you like to come live with Melinda and I?”

Skye pretended to consider the offer for a second, picking the pink behavioural slip back up off Sister Jane’s desk. “Y’know, Mr Coulson,” she turned to the nun, holding the slip out, “I think I _would_ like to leave this place and go live with you.” Skye grinned and tore the pink slip in two, dropping the pieces on the desk.

“Skye…” Abby reprimanded exasperatedly, secretly amused.

“What?” the little girl shrugged, “If I’m leaving for a little while, I’m leaving in style.”

Melinda shook her head, laughing, “You certainly are.”


	2. Skye's Not Good

For all that Sister Jane had argued that Melinda and Phil would not be able to cope with taking care of eight-year-old Skye, she certainly proved her desire to be rid of the little girl herself, when all of the paperwork was rushed through in less than an hour. Phil was sure this hurried transfer of a child was frowned upon, but both he and his wife kept their mouths shut, signing whatever they were told to and assuring Abby they would be fine.

“Any problems, feel free to call me.” Abby said, flicking through the paperwork. “Any time. Day or night, night or day. Any time.”

“You don’t need to worry.” Phil assured her, signing again as the social worker pointed to yet another dotted line. He passed the paper along to Melinda. “You know better than anyone that this is not our first rodeo, so to say.”

“I know, I know.” Abby sighed. “And I know you’ve managed difficult children in the past, and Natasha’s wonderful _now_ , case and point, but-,”

“Abby,” Melinda put a hand on the other woman’s shoulder, “Phil and I will be able to cope. We’ve read her file cover to cover, several times. The kid just needs a home.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for eights years, and so far, it hasn’t gone great. She’s had more homes than most of the kids out there, and not one has been a fit.”

Phil smiled. “Yeah, well, she hasn’t had a _family_. We can give her that.”

Abby took the paperwork back off of Phil and straightened it on the desk. “Perhaps all Mary Sue needs is a family.” She mused.

“Skye.” Melinda corrected. “She seems to prefer ‘Skye’.”

…

While the papers were being signed, Skye had been sent up to her room to pack her things and to say goodbye to the other children, although the latter was unlikely. Skye didn’t waste her time making friends in the orphanage and she didn’t delude herself into thinking that when she left, that any of the other kids even cared.

The room she shared with nine other girls was empty when Skye entered. They weren’t allowed to hang around in the bedrooms during the day because in Sister Margaret’s own words it ‘encouraged mischief’. The last time all ten occupants of Skye’s room had been left alone, she’d ended up being pinned to the ground and spat on. That game had been a particular favourite with the girls in her room for a good few weeks during the summer, and when she had retaliated and kicked one of them in the face by accident, it had still somehow _all_ been her fault. It wasn’t fair.

Skye hated this bedroom. The peeling walls, the creaky floor, the bunk beds. Skye _hated_ the bunk beds. But most of all, more than all of that, Skye _hated_ the girls she had to share the room with.

The kids at St. Agnes’ were lumped together in rooms divided by age and gender. The pre-school kids shared rooms, the teenagers shared rooms, but then somewhere in the middle, the children were sorted by what Skye suspected was a system consisting of ‘who fits where?’ And at the age of eight, when she had returned from her previous foster home to find the bed she had left, filled by a new girl, Skye had been shown to this new room filled with five bunk beds, five chests of drawers, and nine other girls, all older than her and all disgruntled that an eight year old had arrived to spoil their eleven and twelve year old fun. The only bed left had been the top bunk in the far corner.

The top bunk _sucked_.

Skye hated the top bunk almost as much as she hated her roommates. It was too hard to get down in the middle of the night when she’d…when she needed to get down. _And_ sometimes the other kids took away the ladder in the middle of the night so she used to get stuck up there. Not anymore though, she’d perfected the ‘top bunk jump’ out of necessity. And actually, the ‘top bunk jump’ was kind of fun.

It didn’t take Skye long to pack. Most of her stuff was already in the two plastic bags that constantly sat at the foot of her mattress (the girls she was supposed to share the dresser with were less than accommodating) and her _really_ special things she kept in the backpack she used for school. That stayed under her pillow or under the duvet, away from sticky fingers.

That was it. Her whole life in three bags. It would be sad, except Skye’s whole life had been in three bags for as long as she could remember, and really, that was fine, because she moved so much. It was pretty easy to carry three bags. Some of the other kids probably had less than her anyway, so she _tried_ not to complain.

She was standing on the top bunk, stripping the sheets off the bed, when a voice startled her.

“Hey, you almost ready to go?”

Skye turned, stumbling slightly on the lumpy mattress, to see Mrs Coulson standing at the bedroom door. She smiled at Skye and came further into the room.

“Everything’s all set,” Mrs Coulson said, “we’re ready when you are.”

“Um,” Skye swallowed, running her fingers over the frayed edge of the sheet, “I’m supposed to take off the sheets before I go. So they can wash ‘um, I guess. For the next kid.” _Or for when I come back_ , Skye didn’t say.

“I could help?” Mrs Coulson asked.

“S’okay. I can do it.” Skye grinned. “I’ve done it lots of times b’fore, y’know, Mrs Coulson.” She bragged.

“Call me Melinda.” Mrs Coulson smiled, but nodded, and watched in amusement as the little girl wrestled with the sheets and duvet, until a pile of bedclothes thudded to the ground, Skye among them. Melinda’s heart was in her throat for a second, before the child burst from the sheets with a manic grin and a giggle, dark hair all over the place.

“I like to pretend I’m being a parachute jumper!” She declared. “S’pecially when Sister Margaret can’t tell me off for jumpin’, even though there’s no ladder! How does she ‘spect me to get down? She’s a meanie.” Skye grumbled, kicking at the sheets.

“I agree.” Melinda whispered, and Skye’s eyes went wide. “That’s why the sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“Yeah.” Skye nodded. Her eyes fell to the rumpled sheets, and she looked back up at Melinda. “I’m supposed to fold ‘em.”She said sadly.

Melinda took one look at the sheets and kicked them under the bed. “Yeah, well, I hate folding.” She turned to the bags next to Skye on the ground. “This all your stuff?”

“Yep. Well, all ‘sept my coat. Someone took it last week.”

“Who took it?” Melinda frowned.

Skye shrugged. “Dunno. Probably one of the older kids being mean, but I don’t know where it is, so…” She trailed off, kicking nothing with the holy toe of her sneaker.

“Hey.” Melinda smiled when Skye looked back up at her. “Don’t’ worry about it. Let’s go.”

Skye nodded, and Melinda made to pick up the third bag on the ground, Skye’s backpack, but the little girl jumped in front of it with a hard look at the woman.

“No! That’s _mine,_ you’re not allowed to touch it!” She practically growled. “S’ _mine_!”

Melinda backed off, palms out best she could with Skye’s other two bags on her wrists. “Okay, I promise I won’t touch it. Okay?”

The little girl nodded, but kept a tight grip on the ratty hand-me-down.

“I’m sorry I tried to touch your things without asking.” Melinda said gently, crouching down in front of Skye. “That was wrong of me, I should have asked.” Skye watched her sceptically. “I promise in the future, I will always ask before I touch your things. Is that okay?”

“I guess.” She mumbled.

“I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Skye frowned. She didn’t think an adult had _ever_ asked _her_ to forgive _them_. It suddenly occurred to her that she could say ‘No’, she had the power to refuse forgiveness, but instead, she found herself saying, “Yes. I forgive you, Melinda.”

Melinda smiled broadly and stood up straight. “Come on, Skye. Let’s go home.”

…

Mr Coulson was talking to Abby when Skye and Melinda came down the stairs from the bedrooms.

“So she’s doing well?” Abby asked, smiling.

“Very well.” Mr Coulson smiled proudly. “Both of them are.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic.” Abby gushed. “You know I was worried about Natasha when she first arrived. I’m over the moon to know she’s doing so well.”

Skye followed behind Melinda quietly as they approached Abby and Mr Coulson.

Abby turned to Melinda. “ _And_ of course, you’ve got one back in England now, too.” Abby shook her head in disbelief. “How old must she be by now?”

“She was twenty-five last month.” Melinda said.

“ _Twenty-five?_ ” Abby continued to shake her head.

Skye thought she looked like a nodding dog and that made her smile a bit, but she put her hand up to her mouth to hide it, just in case Abby saw and thought she was laughing at her. Skye always tried to be good for Abby; Abby was the one who found Skye homes.

The social worker smiled brightly. “You blink and they’re so grown up. I swear Natasha was fourteen yesterday. Unbelievable. Making me feel old. They all grow up _so_ fast.” She turned to Skye. “That’ll be you soon.” Abby put a hand on Skye’s shoulder.

Melinda and Mr Coulson nodded along with Abby. She always talked a lot. For as long as Skye could remember, Abby had talked too much. ‘Chatty’ was how Sister Jane described her, but Sister Margaret called Abby ‘an infuriating hot-air artist’. Skye wasn’t sure what that meant but it never sounded good when she said it.

Skye didn’t know who or what they were talking about now. Abby kept patting her head and saying about how she would be ‘twenty-five in the blink of an eye’ just like ‘the other one, back in England’. Skye was only eight, nowhere _near_ to being twenty-five, and she still had no idea _who_ was twenty-five. She wanted to ask, but the three adults were having a proper conversation and it was rude to interrupt, and Skye really didn’t want them to shout at her on the first day.

“You’ve got kids all over the globe.” Abby was saying to Melinda and Mr Coulson.

“Yes,” Melinda smiled, “One at college in DC, one working in England, and now,” She turned to Skye, “one back at home with us.”

Skye smiled back and didn’t flinch away when Melinda swept some hair out of her eyes. She felt a little bad about shouting at her for touching her backpack.

“Not to mention all the others scattered across the world from when you were doing emergency fostering.” Abby laughed. “You must have cared for half the kids in the system.”

“We do get a lot of Christmas cards.” Mr Coulson smiled. He turned to Melinda and Skye, still smiling brightly. “All set?” He asked in one of Abby’s rare gaps in conversation. “Ready to go, Skye?

Skye nodded and gripped her backpack. “Yes, sir.”

“You want to say goodbye to anyone before we go?” He asked.

Skye grimaced. “No, thank you, Mr Coulson. M’good.”

“Call me Phil.”

“No, thank you, _Phil_.” She corrected. Skye turned around to address the rest of the orphanage. No one was there, the nuns had made themselves scarce, and the rest of the kids were off in the rec room or playing outside, but every time she left she felt like she wanted to tell the actual building.

“Good riddance!” Skye shouted at the top of her voice.

Abby shook her head. “Every time.”

“I guess she’s eager to get out of here.” Melinda smirked.

“I guess she is.” Phil agreed. “Come on then, Skye, home time.”

Skye smiled and nodded, shouldering her bag. Going to a new home was scary, and usually she got a tummy ache for a while when she first met who she was going to live with. Now, she had butterflies, like before her race at school on sports day, but her tummy didn’t _hurt_.

Each time she went to a new home it was exciting, and nerve-wracking, but this felt different. Melinda and Phil were smiling, proper happy smiles, not fake ones, and they called her ‘Skye’ all of the time. That felt really good. She didn’t have to keep reminding them of her _real_ name. Maybe it would be a good place to stay for a while.

“Let’s go.” Skye grinned, and led the way to the parking lot.

…

Phil said the drive would be over an hour, so Melinda sat in the back of the car with Skye so she wouldn’t get bored. They had a bag with snacks in for the journey and Melinda even said Skye could drink a juice box in the car. Skye liked that. Melinda and Phil were nice.

“Do I get my own room?” Skye asked on the way to the Coulson’s house, picking at chip crumbs on the strap of her backpack, which sat in her lap. She always made sure to ask the most important questions before they got to the house.

“Yeah.” Phil smiled at her in the rear-view mirror. “We have four bedrooms.” Skye was impressed. “One is Mel’s and I’s, one is our daughter Natasha’s and one belonged to our other daughter.”

“Belonged?” Skye questioned, looking to Melinda. “Doesn’t she want it anymore?”

“Well, technically it’s still hers.” Melinda clarified. “But she doesn’t live with us anymore, she has her own apartment and all of her stuff is there, so we use it as a guest room.”

Skye had never had her own proper room before. Some foster parents had big enough houses that she didn’t need to share a bedroom, but it was never _hers_. She was never there long enough to properly lay claim to it. If she had her very own room, she would never _ever_ want to give it up, no matter where she moved.

“Doesn’t she mind?” Skye asked. “What if she wants to come home?”

“Not really. She hasn’t lived with us for a very long time. And if she wanted it back, it’d still be waiting for her.” Phil said.

Skye frowned. “How long since she lived there?”

“Ooh…” Phil said, watching the road ahead, “about four years? Mel?”

“Yeah, four years.”

That was half as long as Skye had been alive. “That _is_ a long time.” She looked out of the window at the rolling greens on the edge of the highway. “If I had a Mommy and Daddy, I would never move out. I’d stay there forever and ever and ever.”

“She almost did.” Melinda laughed and Skye looked over to her in question. “She didn’t want to leave Phil and I when she went to college, thought she’d miss us too much, so she stayed at home with us for three years and went to the one in the city. Drove there every day just so she could stay home.”

Skye nodded. She could see why their daughter would want to do that. “Was that Natasha?” She asked. Skye was intrigued regarding this Natasha character Abby had been prattling on about.

“No,” Phil answered, “our other daughter, Bobbi.”

“Natasha’s a few years younger, she goes to college in DC.”

“That’s where the president lives.” Skye declared. She’d learned that in school once.

“Very true.” Melinda laughed. “Although Natasha hasn’t met him yet.”

Skye looked back out at the grass rushing by. “Do you have lots of kids?” She asked. “My last foster parents already had four children….” Skye trailed off, tightening her grip on her backpack. “And they weren’t very nice.”

“Well, our kids are all grown up.” Melinda said.

Skye looked at the woman’s reflection in the car window. “How many though?”

“Just the two.” Phil laughed.

“And Clint.” Melinda added, laughing.

“Right.” He agreed. “And Hunter.”

“No, he doesn’t count. He’s Bobbi’s problem.”

“Clint was Nat’s problem.”

Melinda leaned forward in her seat. “Yes, but we fed and clothed Clint for almost a year, so, he counts.”

“Fair enough.” Phil smiled. “So, Skye, I guess that’s two, and Clint. He’s like a half.”

“Who _are_ all of these people?” Skye looked between Phil and Melinda. They just sniggered. “Seriously, guys. I’m not kidding.” Skye put on her best ‘serious face’.

Phil smirked at her in the rear-view mirror. “ _And_ there was Trip.”

“Oh he’s got to count for at least half, too.”

“Half?” Skye asked.

“Like Clint, he’s not really our son,” Melinda explained, “but he stayed with us a lot when he was growing up, so he’s got a place in our hearts.”

“Wait,” Skye shook her head to clear all the confusion of names, “Who’s Clint?”

“Natasha’s…” Phil trailed off and waved around with his hand not on the steering wheel. “Nat’s… best friend? Boyfriend? All of the above?”

“Something like that.” Melinda agreed.

Skye wiggled in her booster seat. It was new, she noticed, bought especially for her. “So who’s everyone else?”

“Who else?” Melinda asked.

“Hunter.” Skye counted off on her fingers. “And I still don’t really know who Clint or Trip are. _And_ Abby said you took care of half of the kids in the system.” She held all ten fingers out to Melinda. “That’s like, a lot.”

“They are very long stories, are what they are.” Phil said. “Long stories for another time, I think.”

“Kay.” Skye accepted, sensing this conversation was over, and anyway, things were beginning to get significantly more interesting out of the window. The expanse of green began to give way to suburban townage; parks, café’s, schools, houses, all becoming more and more clustered the further Phil drove them.

“How far now?” Skye asked, craning her neck to keep her eyes trained on a particularly large swing set in someone’s front yard as they passed.

“Not far now.” Phil confirmed with a glance in the rear view mirror. “Five minutes. Tops.”

“Cool.” Skye muttered, too enamoured with the views of an upcoming playground to say anything else.

Melinda watched as the little girl pressed her nose to the glass of the car window as they passed the local playground. There were plenty of kids around playing on the equipment, as Phil slowed the car to a stop to allow a family to cross the street.

“We could go to the playground tomorrow, if you wanted?” Melinda suggested, tapping Skye on the shoulder.

Skye turned to face her as Phil pulled away. “S’okay.” She shrugged.

“Looks like fun, Skye.” Phil commented.

“Maybe. But it’s okay.” She didn’t want to start demanding Melinda and Phil take her places, especially when they had no other reason to go to the playground. Their kids were all grown up. They were probably sick of taking kids to parks.

“We’ll think about it again, tomorrow.” Melinda smiled.

“Kay.”

Without being told, Skye knew they must be nearing Phil and Melinda’s house. The car began moving slower and slower as they entered a housing estate with shiny cars and garages and big front yards that looked like some of the pictures of houses in the books at school. Phil pulled up into a driveway of a house, smaller than some they had passed on their journey, but still pretty big, _and_ it had a front yard with a fence around and everything.

“You guys are _rich_.” Skye said, leaning forward in her seat to get a better look at the front of the house.

“Not rich.” Phil said, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning around. “We’re…comfortable.”

Skye twisted her face. “That just means rich. That’s how rich people say rich.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Did you guys win the lottery or something?”

“We’ve worked very hard to be comfortable.” Melinda said. “We still work very hard.” She unbuckled her own belt.

“Neither of us used to have money, but hard work got us to where we are.” Phil said, getting out of the car and ducking around to open Skye’s door.

Melinda too got out of the car, coming around to Skye’s side, standing by Coulson. She helped Skye climb out of the back of the car, allowing the little girl to carry her backpack. Skye stared back up at the house. The grass in their front yard was a bit longer than everyone else’s and there was a basketball hoop over the garage door that Skye really hoped they’d let her play with.

“Working hard and being kind and being your best is important. More than money and being ‘rich’.” Melinda said.

Skye turned to her, taking her eyes off the hoop. “That’s _awesome_.” She breathed, gawking at Melinda. “That’s so cool. That’s what I want to be like when I grow up.”

Melinda frowned slightly. “Being wealthy isn’t important, Skye. It’s not awesome.”

“No, no.” Skye shook her head is frustration. “Not _that_. I want to be kind and to work hard.” She said. “So I can be good.”

Phil bent down in front of Skye, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You are good Skye. And kind _and_ hard working.”

Skye looked away at the marks on the fence of the front yard that were maybe meant to be goalposts. “M’not good.” She mumbled. She tried so hard to be good, but she just couldn’t be, families just kept bringing her back because she was bad. She was _difficult_.

“I think you’re good.” Phil smiled.

Skye turned back to him with a bored look. “You’ve only known me for like three hours.” Skye said. “I can pretend to be good for three hours so you won’t take me back.”

She expected Phil to be sad when she told him she was only pretending and trying her best to _seem_ good, but he just laughed and looked over at Melinda. She was smiling, too.

“Skye,” Phil said, “you don’t need to pretend to be anything with us, okay? Just be you.”

“What if ‘me’ is bad and you want to send me back to Agnes’?”

Melinda brushed hair from Skye’s face, like she had done back at the orphanage. It kind of felt nice, Skye thought. She kind of wanted to hug Melinda, but she just stood still and stayed quiet, being good.

“You know,” Melinda said, “you’re not the first little one to come stay with us who thought they were a bad person.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope.” Melinda brushed the pad of her thumb over her cheek. “And I’ll tell you what I told her, what I _still_ tell her when she’s feeling down, so listen up, little one.”

Skye did. She concentrated really hard to try and listen to Melinda. When Melinda bent down to her level, Skye even looked her in the eye, because that was polite when you were listening to what someone had to say.

Melinda stared at her. “There is no such thing as a ‘bad person’.” She said. “There are only bad decisions, and we will never stop taking care of you for making bad decisions, because everyone makes mistakes. Phil and I will forgive you for whatever you do, as long as you understand why you’re sorry.”

Skye kept on looking at Melinda even after she stopped talking, because the words were still going around in her mind in Melinda’s voice.

“But what if I do lots of bad things?” Skye asked.

“Then we’ll have lots of saying ‘sorry’ and forgiving.” Melinda said. “You’re not a bad person, Skye.”

“You’re a good person.” Phil nodded. “I know that, and I’ve only known you three hours, so you must be _really_ good if I already know that.”

It felt nice to hear, but I didn’t make sense. Maybe Phil wasn’t lying, Skye thought, maybe he really _did_ think that Skye was good, when she wasn’t.

“If I’m so good, then how comes no one wants me to be in their family?” Skye asked to prove her point.

Phil’s face softened and Melinda did the nice hair-stroking thing again.

“We want you in our family.” Melinda said and Skye _really_ wanted to hug her now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please! Thank you for reading. xxx


	3. Skye's Sorry

Phil carried Skye’s two bags of clothes into the house, leaving her and Melinda out on the driveway. Melinda held out her hand to the little girl, and Skye eyed it for a moment, before taking it with her own and being led into the house.

The house smelled nice, Skye noted. That was always a good thing. There had been past foster homes that stank of wet dog or old people and soup, which hadn’t necessarily been what made them bad, but it had set the tone for her stay. So far, Phil and Melinda were way up there with the good foster homes Skye had stayed in.

Melinda kicked the door shut behind them, keeping a hold of Skye’s hand and gently pulling her into a living room, where Phil was placing the bags of clothing on the floor by one of the couches.

“How about we do a little house tour, and then we can unpack your things a little later?” Phil asked.

“Um…okay.” Skye mumbled, suddenly feeling shy now that she was invading on the Coulson’s house.

“Why don’t you leave you backpack in here with your clothes?” Melinda asked, swinging their joined hands to grab Skye’s attention.

Skye looked up with panicked eyes. “But what if it gets stolen?” She asked seriously.

“Honey, there’s only us three in the house.” Melinda assured her. “And we’re all going to be together. I guarantee you, your backpack will not be stolen.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cos, I’ll be _so_ mad if we come back and it’s gone.” Skye tugged on Melinda’s hand. “Like, you don’t even know how mad I’ll be.”

“ _So_ mad?” Melinda asked with a smirk, but Skye nodded, expression serious.

“Yes. _So_ mad.”

“What’s so special about your backpack, then?” Phil asked, perching on the arm of the couch.

Skye scoffed. “Nothing. It used to be one of the boy’s who got fostered last summer. Mine got broken in a tug-fight, that was definitely not my fault at all, no matter what that stupid Stacey Renwick says, and I got his to use for school.”

“Okay.” Phil said slowly.

“It’s what’s _inside_ that’s special.” Skye smiled.

“And what’s inside?” Phil prompted, reaching out to touch the bag as Skye placed it next to her others.

She slapped his hand away, though not particularly hard but it made a noise that resounded around the living room. It was just a ‘warning slap’ like Sister Margaret sometimes gave when Skye was acting up.

“None of your damn business.” She said, moving the bag further away from Phil.

For a second, it looked as though Phil was going to begin laughing, but then Melinda’s hand tightened slightly on Skye’s and she looked up to see a terrifying ‘serious’ expression on the woman’s face. When Skye looked back down to Phil, he too shared the expression.

She was in trouble.

“I’m sorry.” Skye said without prompting. Expressions like that indicated an apology was needed quickly in order to diffuse the situation. Skye had plenty of experience when it came to saying ‘sorry’ first and hoping for the best. “I’m very sorry.”

“And what are you sorry for?” Melinda asked, no longer look scary but still serious, and Skye paled.

She had no idea.

“Er…I’m, I-,” Skye stuttered, looking up at the woman. “I’m just sorry for doing the bad thing.” The little girl settled on.

Melinda’s expression softened minutely and she crouched down to Skye’s level.

“Tell me why you’re sorry, Skye.” She instructed.

Skye looked over to Phil, hoping for some sort of clue, but Melinda put a gentle finger on her cheek to bring her gaze back to her. The woman raised her brows in question.

“I’m sorry because you’re mad at me.” Skye said, biting her bottom lip nervously, a bad habit she’d picked up at some point after foster home number seven. Mr and Mrs Dawson; they had been shouters.

“I’m not mad at you, Skye.” Melinda said. “But you did do something that Phil and I don’t approve of. Can you maybe think back to what that could be?”

Skye nibbled on her bottom lip as she thought. She had said ‘damn’ but that wasn’t even a real swear word. The kids at the orphanage said way worse than that for stupider reasons. She had hit Phil’s hand, but not hard and he’d deserved it anyway, making out like he was going to touch her stuff. But maybe Phil and Melinda didn’t like things like that. Hitting in any capacity _was_ naughty and Skye knew that. She berated herself in her head; of _course_ hitting was bad, of _course_ swearing was bad. She was bad. Skye was being bad and difficult and Phil and Melinda were going to send her back already.

“I’m sorry.” Skye gasped, looking to Phil with wide, wet eyes and trembling lips. “I’m so sorry for hitting you, Phil.” A sob escaped her throat as Skye looked back over at Melinda. “Please don’t make me go back yet. _Please_ let me stay a little longer.” She was crying now, properly, and embarrassingly. Skye didn’t want to go back to the orphanage yet. Not yet.

“Oh, little one,” Melinda sighed, reaching out to cup Skye’s cheek, “we’re not sending you back. Not now, not ever.”

Skye sobbed again, and it only took a gentle encouragement of a hand on her back from Melinda, before Skye was throwing herself in the woman’s arms, wrapping her own skinny arms around her neck. The little girl pressed her face in Melinda’s neck and cried.

What she was really crying for, Skye wasn’t entirely sure. Relief that they weren’t going to throw her out? Possibly. Guilt for hitting Phil; maybe? Or maybe it was jut because she was a rotten kid in care, an orphan that no one had ever put up with when the going got tough, and being able to hug Melinda, have Melinda hug her back, felt overwhelmingly wonderful.

“Come on, it’s okay.” Melinda soothed, and lifted Skye off her feet. She wrapped her legs around the woman’s waist in an automatic response and Melinda rocked her like a baby, bouncing her and shushing her like Skye couldn’t remember anyone having done before.

Hugs were really nice. Melinda’s hugs felt really, really nice.

Skye felt Phil approach from the side and she shifted her position in Melinda’s arms so that she could look at him. She had to let go of Melinda with one arm to wipe the tears from her eyes in order to see him properly, but Melinda tightened her own arms around Skye to keep her stable.

“I’m sorry I hit you, Phil.” She hiccupped.

Phil wiped a few more stray tears from her cheeks and smiled at her, far more kindly than she felt she deserved.

“I forgive you, Skye.” He said. “I forgive you, okay?”

Skye dropped her head to lean on Melinda’s chest. She was still rocking her.

“I’m sorry I was bad.” She whispered to both of them.

Melinda kissed the top of her head. “You weren’t bad. You just made a bad decision, and now you’re sorry and you’re forgiven, so it’s all over.” She tilted Skye’s face up to look her in the eye with a finger under her chin. “Choosing to hit, and to swear, are bad decisions. But we forgive you. Don’t we?”

“Of course we forgive you.” Phil nodded.

“So, now, we can move past this, and hopefully, next time you’ll make a better decision. Huh?”

“I’ll be good.” Skye said.

“All we ask is that you try.” Phil said.

Skye looked between the two of them, the man who was being so kind to her and the woman who held her lovingly in her arms, even though they’d only known her hours. They had no reason to be so nice to her. What was she? Skye was nothing but a scruffy orphan with little going for her.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because,” Melinda said, “you’ve had a lot of bad experiences,” she rubbed Skye’s back as she rocked her, “and you’ve been so brave, and you deserve a family.”

“You deserve better, Skye.” Phil reiterated. He rubbed a hand over the back of her head. “We want to give you better.”

Skye sucked her thumb. Back at St Agnes’ she got shouted at or ridiculed for sucking her thumb, but it made the crying stop and the tight feeling in her tummy dissipate slightly, and anyway, Melinda and Phil didn’t seem to mind.

Melinda walked over to the couch and sat down, settling Skye on her lap and stroking back the little girl’s dark hair. She could probably feel the tangles, Skye thought; she hadn’t bothered to brush it that morning. Usually when someone was touching her hair it hurt. In the orphanage it was either being pulled or snagged or having a hairbrush raked through it, but the way Melinda touched her hair made Skye feel all calm and sleepy. She closed her eyes.

Skye opened them again when the sofa dipped next to her, and Phil smiled gently, holding a tattered-looking, but brightly coloured book.

“How about we have a story?” He said.

“M’too old for picture books.” Skye grumbled around her thumb, well aware that in her position on Melinda’s lap with a thumb in her mouth, she was hardly too old for anything.

“Well I’m not.” Phil smiled. “I got this book when I was seven years old.”

“Long time ago.” Skye commented, noting the worn spine and slightly crumpled edges of the pages.

“Yeah, because I’m _so_ old. And I loved it when I was seven, and I still love it now, so I’m going to read it, and you can listen if you want.”

Skye looked over at the picture of the superhero on the first page as Phil smoothed his hand over the page. She recognised the figure, with his blue and red costume and the white star on his chest.

“Who’s that?” She asked, pointing to the figure.

“ _Who’s that?_ ” Phil repeated her, an exaggerated expression of shock on his face. “Oh, Skye, you have so much to learn.”

Melinda snorted. “Oh, boy. Get ready for a history lesson, little one.”

Phil continued, ignoring his wife. “This, dear child, is the great Captain America.”

“Phil is in _love_ with Captain America.” Melinda teased.

The title rang a bell in Skye’s mind, but nothing concrete settled itself in her consciousness. Her blank look only seemed to spur on Phil, and his enthusiasm made her smile around her thumb.

“Captain America is a war hero. A national gem.” Phil’s face went serious, making Skye smile even more. “He is the greatest superhero of all time.”

Skye giggled, taking her thumb away from her mouth. “Kay.”

“Kay? _Kay?_ That’s all you have to say on the matter?” Phil shook his head and turned his attention back to the first page of the book. “The man is a national hero.”

“He’s also not real.” Melinda laughed.

“Don’t listen to her, Skye. He’s totally real.”

Skye nodded and shifted on Melinda’s lap so that that she could see the pictures properly. She leaned her head back on Melinda’s shoulder, thumb making its way back to her mouth.

“I wanna hear the story, now.” Skye said, and Phil settled closer to Melinda, propping the book up between them.

“Okay.” He said. “Now listen up, little one, as I regale you with the tale of the greatest superhero to ever walk this earth.”

…

As Phil read the story of Captain America and his quest to defeat the evil Red Skull, Melinda stroked Skye’s dark hair, letting her own mind wander, Phil’s voice washing over her with the all too familiar story. Phil’s book had been read to, or by, practically every one of the kids who had come through their house over the years. It seemed to relax the frightened little ones, and calm down the angsty teens. Even the most unlikely of kids had taken to the book, including a firety-tempered, fourteen year old, Natasha Romanoff, still haunted by a Cold War she was far too young to experience.

Like Phil, Melinda could recite that book word for word, as could both of their daughters. Captain America certainly made the rounds in the Coulson household.

On her lap, Skye made a little sleepy noise around her thumb. Melinda rubbed her back, relishing in the feeling of the little girl burrowing closer to her chest. It had been so long since she’d had a little one to cuddle, and yes, her two adult daughters still counted as ‘little ones’.

Her and Phil had been talking about having another child in the house since before Natasha had left for college over a year ago. For that length of time they’d been searching for a child to take in and give a better life.

They had seen Skye’s story purely by accident, when reading through some other files of children who lived at St. Agnes’. A name kept popping up in many of the kids’ behavioural reports, over and over, consistently involved in any trouble over the years.

_“After being provoked by Mary Sue Poots, David then...”_

_“Stacey claims the fight was started by another girl, Mary Sue, who…”_

_“Andrew and Joshua claim the game was broken by Mary Sue Poots, though she denies any involvement. All three will receive punishment in the form of a week of extra chores and…”_

Out of curiosity, Phil had requested the file of a certain ‘Mary Sue Poots’ from Abby, and after reading through the little girl’s life history, both came to the conclusion that this was the little girl for them. Both of them had soft spots for the kids with some personality.

Melinda had only read Skye’s file last week, seen some photographs of her a day later, and then had a meeting scheduled with Abby, regarding the logistics, the day after that. She rubbed a hand up and down Skye’s arm and smiled over at Phil, who continued to read with enthusiasm, doing all the characters’ voices and making Skye giggle. Melinda was damn glad they had made the decision to bring Skye home.

It was an unexplainable feeling she felt when she cuddled Skye; a feeling that Melinda had only felt with three other people in her life. She had married one of those people and the other two were now her daughters. It just felt _right_. Skye being a part of their family was _right._

Phil paused in his reading and when Melinda looked over to him, he was smiling at Skye. She looked down to notice the little girl’s eyes drooping shut.

“You want to take a nap?” Phil asked Skye, but the little girl opened her eyes and shook her head.

“Keep reading the story.” She said. “Please.” Skye added as what seemed to be an afterthought.

“Okay.” Phil began to read again.

Skye looked up to Melinda with wide eyes. The little girl said nothing, but took her hand away from her mouth and gently ran a finger along Melinda’s cheekbone. Melinda stayed still, allowing Skye to gently trace her features, before Skye looked back over to the book, put her thumb back in her mouth and hooked her fingers over her nose, rubbing the bridge soothingly.

Children were fascinating things, and this one, Melinda was sure, belonged in their family.

…

Phil never made it to the end of the book before Skye was sleeping soundly in Melinda’s arms. He stopped reading once it became obvious that Skye’s heavy breathing was an indication she was no longer listening to him. He closed the book and leaned forward to put it on the coffee table. Melinda smiled at him in the way that made him tingle.

“We made the right decision.” He announced quietly, brushing back some of Skye’s hair and wrapping an arm around Mel’s shoulders.

“Yeah, we did.” Melinda agreed.

“She’s going to be hard work, this one.” Phil grinned. “Why don’t we ever pick the easy kids?”

“Because then we’d be bored out of our minds, and anyway,” she pressed a kiss to Skye’s hair and the little girl’s arm tightened around her in her sleep, “I think the kids pick us.”

Phil kissed Mel’s cheek, smiling. “Wait until we tell Tasha we might have a little one with a temper that could rival hers.”

Melinda snorted. “Yeah right. I know what Skye’s file said, but even she never punched a nun in the face. I think we can safely say, Nat’s place as ‘most aggressive child’ is not being rivalled at this point.”

“God,” Phil sniggered, “a teenager punches _one_ nun in the face and suddenly they’re aggressive.”

“Hey, I stand by my little girl.” Melinda said. “Nat was perfectly justified in that punch, and anyway she hasn’t been in fight since high school. Nat’s fine now.”

“And Skye will be, too.”

“Mmm.” Mel touched Skye’s cheek. “She will be.” She looked back over at Phil. “We won’t give up on her.”

“Never. We know that, we just have to make sure she believes it, too.” He sighed. “I know I’ve asked this so many times before about so many kids, but, how could _anyone_ have let all this crap happen to this little one?”

Melinda shrugged and smiled at him sadly. She answered in the same way she had when he’d asked about all the other kids they’d ever cared for. Bobbi, Natasha, Trip, even Clint, and all of the many others they’d taken into emergency care for days at a time. Phil knew it broke her heart to say it as much as it broke his to hear it. “I just don’t know.”

…

When Skye woke up with her face pressed against the unfamiliar material of a couch, it took her a moment to stamp down on the panic that arose, and to remind herself of where she was.

She was in her new home with her new foster parents. Phil and Melinda.

For a second, Skye worried that they had left her all alone, and she began thinking of the bad things she could have done to make them mad, but when she turned over to face away from the back of the couch, Melinda was sitting on the coffee table, smiling gently.

“Hey, sleepy head.” She said. “You’ve had a pretty long nap.”

Skye pushed herself up to a sitting position and rubbed at her eyes. She felt a little too hot and a little like she wanted to lay down again, but instead she pushed her hair away from her face and looked back at Melinda.

“You feeling a little better?” The woman asked, and Skye felt her cheeks heat up at the memory of crying in front of Phil and Melinda, only seconds after being let into their house.

But now that she thought about it, she did kind of feel better. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been allowed to nap during the day.

Skye nodded. “Bit better.”

“Good. You hungry, sweetie? Phil’s making dinner.”

Skye was hungry. _Really_ hungry now that Melinda had brought her attention the empty feeing in her tummy. Again, she nodded.

Melinda stood and held out both arms. “Come on, then.”

Skye stood up and eyed Melinda’s arms curiously. Sometimes grown ups held out their hand so you would hold it, especially when they thought you might run away, but she wasn’t sure what Melinda was asking her to do. At her pause, Melinda took the initiative and lifted Skye up onto her hip, holding her there in the living room for a moment, and kissing her cheek.

“Let’s get you some dinner.”

Skye wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to be carried to the kitchen and that she was too old for that, but she didn’t. Melinda carried her through the house and to the kitchen and Skye stayed quiet and wrapped her arms around Melinda’s neck.

Hugs were nice.

“Hey, you’re up.” Phil said when they entered the room.

Skye looked around as Melinda sat her on the island in the centre of the room, smelling whatever Phil was cooking. She wasn’t sure what it was, but smelled really good and Skye’s tummy grumbled loudly.

“Hungry?” Phil grinned.

“Mm hm.” Skye said, swinging her legs off the side of the counter.

“I guess you were tired.” Phil said, picking up a pan and flicking it so that all the vegetables inside were tossed in the air before landing neatly back on the slate. “You slept for a long time.”

“Sorry.” Skye said automatically and Phil shook his head.

“No, don’t be sorry. You were tired and you took a nap, that’s a good thing.” He assured her.

“Kay.” She said, unconvinced.

Melinda went to the fridge and came back with a juice box, handing it to Skye. It was an apple one. Skye’s favourite, well except for soda, but she was never allowed soda anymore.

She knew for a fact that somewhere in her file that there was a page that said soda made Skye _“Hyperactive and difficult to control”_ because she had seen Abby writing it after she once climbed to the very top of the jungle gym at a birthday party when she lived with Mr and Mrs Jackson, and wouldn’t come down even when they shouted at her.

Mr and Mrs Jackson took her back to St. Agnes’ the next day because they said she was too difficult to cope with, and no one listened to Skye when she tried to explain that she had been too scared of heights to climb down from the jungle gym on her own. Abby had been angry with Skye after Mr and Mrs Jackson had brought her back, even if she never said it, the way she looked at Skye and sighed and mumbled in the office meant that Skye could tell. Abby always got a little angry when Skye messed up.

Mind on the train of thought of going back to St. Agnes’ Skye asked, “How long do I get to stay with you guys?”

Melinda frowned at her and Phil stopped stirring something to peer at Skye.

“What do you mean?” Melinda asked.

Skye shifted under their gazes and looked down at her juice box, fiddling with the straw. “Just, I wanted to know for how long do I get to stay with you before you make me go back.” She looked back up at them. “Sometimes I think it might be longer than it is.” She thought back to the Jacksons and them dropping her at the door just an hour after she’d woken up in a bed she’d been sleeping in for almost a month.

“Honey,” Melinda said gently, putting her hand on Skye’s cheek, “For as long as you want to, you’re staying with Phil and I.” She stroked Skye’s cheek with her thumb. “I meant what I said before, we’re never going to take you back, no matter what you do.”

Skye frowned, studying Melinda’s face. She had a nice face, a kind face, an honest expression made Skye want to believe her. She really, _really_ wanted to. But it was hard to trust anyone, never mind someone she had only met that day.

“Do you believe us?” Phil asked, crossing the room to stand next to Melinda.

“No.” Skye said honestly.

“You will.” Melinda smiled. “One day, you’re going to believe us when we tell you that we’ll never leave you. Bobbi and Nat didn’t used to believe us when they first arrived, but they know now. We’ll never leave you. I promise.” She smiled and crouched down slightly to rub her nose against Skye’s.

Skye laughed, copying Melinda and shaking her head side to side to brush their noses. “You’ll never ever leave me no matter how bad I am?” Skye asked, face touching Melinda’s.

“I promise that no matter how many bad decisions you make, no matter what you do, or what you say, as long as you want to be in our family, you _will_ be in our family.”

Skye leaned back on the counter so that Melinda could stand up straight, and so that she could look at Phil. He was nodding along with Melinda’s words.

“I’ll try to believe you.” Skye said to both of them. “I’ll try because…” she looked away, out of the kitchen window where it was already dark outside and the streetlamps had come on. “…because I want a family.” Skye felt her cheeks get hot and she chewed her lip. She dared to look back at Phil and Melinda.

They were smiling at her.

“We’ll be your family, Skye.” Phil said. “If you would like us to be.”

Skye looked between them, and thought back to her other foster homes. This would be her tenth. Her tenth in eight years. Of those ten, Skye had clear memories of exactly five, not including this one, all five of which ended with her being dumped back at the orphanage with varying empty apologies and even more unpleasant experiences under her belt.

No one, in all of her homes, had ever been as kind as Phil and Melinda. No one had ever been as caring or loving in all the time she had ever spent with foster parents, as these two had been in the short time she had spent with them.

Kids in care tended to suffer from one of two fatal flaws; they didn’t trust, or they trusted too easily. Skye had flitted between the two, depending on the family, but the fact of the matter was, no matter what her feeling, she had always been let down. Always. And it was no one else’s fault but her own, no matter what anyone said, it _must_ be Skye’s fault; ten homes, nine of which had ended badly because of her.

It was only a matter of time before she did something to end number ten and make Phil and Melinda so mad that they wouldn’t want her anymore.

But Skye did want a family. She tried so hard to be good, because more than anything she just wanted a family. A family like the other kids at school had, with mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters who all loved each other. Skye wanted that.

Skye _really_ wanted that.

“Yes.” She said quietly. “I’d like to be in your family.”

Phil beamed at her and Melinda lifted her off the counter and hugged her tightly. Skye hugged her back and pressed her face into Melinda’s shoulder, closing her eyes.

Yes. She’d be a part of this family for a while. And she’d try really, _really_ hard to be so good, that they would want to keep her around, just like Bobbi and Natasha.

Skye would try _so_ hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please. :) xxx


	4. Skye's Tantrum

Phil and Melinda had a dining room with a large oak table in the centre of the room, and high-backed chairs surrounding it. It was so clean and tidy, it looked almost unused, which according to Melinda was true. They only ever used the room on particularly special occasions, like Christmas, or when they had lots of people over.

While Phil finished up making dinner, Melinda had taken Skye from room to room in the downstairs of the house, showing off the other rooms she hadn’t seen. A poky laundry room on the side of the kitchen, a downstairs bathroom in the hall, the dining room with the big table, and the room Skye was most interested in seeing, the room Melinda introduced as the ‘Playroom’.

Technically, Melinda said, the playroom had been intended by the builders of the house to be a second living room, but after having so many children living with them, over the years the room had become the central hub for the kids to hang out in, whether they were three years old or twenty-five. All the kids loved the playroom.

The door to the playroom was closed when Melinda led Skye to it, but she could have easily identified the room as special compared to the others in the house. For one, the wooden door had been covered in various pictures and photographs, some in frames, some looking as though they had been haphazardly tacked to the door. But what gave the room away most, were the glittery letters in the centre of the door, helpfully spelling out ‘playroom’ in primary colours.

Skye let go of Melinda’s hand and stepped forward to inspect the pictures and photographs more closely. Some of them, she was too short to see properly, but the ones at eye level were just as interesting.

A drawing of two figures who looked suspiciously like Melinda and Phil and of a young boy with a soccer ball at the centre of them was labelled in neat childish script: _by Trip, age 10._

Another drawing, more artistic than the one by ‘Trip’ was in a frame and securely attached to the door. This one depicted an impressive ink sketch of two girls’ faces, pressed closed together with smirks on their lips. There was tiny writing at the bottom corner, and Skye took her time to spell out the words in her head. It read: _Sisters, by Bobbi Morse-Coulson._

Skye dared to trace the two girls’ faces over the glass of the frame with her finger. “Your Bobbi drew that?” She asked, getting even closer to the door to see the tiny pen strokes on the picture.

“She did.” Melinda said from behind her. “A few years ago. She copied off a photograph.”

Skye turned around to look at Melinda. “She’s _really_ good at drawing.”

“I know. In fact, the photograph she copied off is up there.” Melinda nodded to somewhere on the door above Skye’s head.

Skye stepped back to look up at the photograph, again in a frame and nailed to the door. Practically the same image from Bobbi’s drawing looked back at her, only this time in colour and far more detail. Two girls, one blonde and the other with bright red hair, were smiling at each other rather than at the camera. Skye smiled; she couldn’t help it.

“They’re very pretty.” She said, standing on her tiptoes to see the girls better.

“Here.” Melinda said and lifted Skye onto her hip so that she could see the picture better.

The girls’ faces took up the entire frame, only a little bit of background visible.

“Who are they?” Skye asked.

Melinda smiled at her. “Can you guess who they might be?” She asked.

Skye could. “Bobbi and Natasha?”

“Spot on, little one.” Melinda kissed her nose and turned back to the photograph. “ _That’s_ Bobbi.” She pointed to the blonde girl. “And _that’s_ Nat.” She pointed to the redhead.

“Sisters.” Skye mumbled.

She didn’t mean for Melinda to hear her, but the woman said, “Yeah. Sisters.”

While Melinda was holding her, Skye took the opportunity to look at the other drawings and photographs on the door near the top. One in particular caught her eye and made her giggle. A pretty accurate drawing of Captain America stood out on stark white paper, but the face of the drawing had been replaced with a small photograph cut-out of Phil’s face.

“Who did that one?” Skye laughed, pointing to the ‘Captain Phil’.

“Oh,” Melinda smirked, “that’s courtesy of Hunter.” She pointed to the top of the picture where the words: _by Lance Hunter, age 24 ¾,_ was scrawled. “He likes to think he’s funny.”

“I think he’s funny.” Skye grinned at the picture.

“I’ll let him know.” Melinda said and pointed to another photograph, this one tacked to the door by the handle, a little crumpled where the doorknob was, but otherwise clear. “There he is with Bob.”

Skye squirmed and Melinda put her back down so she could crouch by the doorknob and look at the photo. Bobbi, older than she looked than in the photograph with Natasha, but no less beautiful, grinned into the camera, getting a piggy-back ride from Hunter. He too was grinning, though his eyes were on Bobbi, head turned to look at her as he held her legs and her arms wrapped around his neck.

“It says ‘Lance’ on the picture.” Skye said. “Hunter is his last name?” She asked.

“Yeah. Most people just call him Hunter.”

“Hmm.” Skye said, looking back at the photo. “He’s Bobbi’s boyfriend?”

“He is.” Melinda said. “They live in England, that’s where Hunter’s from.”

Skye turned back to Melinda with a frown. Natasha lived in DC with the President, that’s what they’d said when they were in the car. Bobbi lived in England. Now, Skye wasn’t sure how far away those places were, but England was _definitely_ a different country.

“That’s very far away.” She said, and Melinda nodded in agreement. “Do you miss her a lot?”

“I do miss her very much, and Natasha, too.” Melinda said, and to Skye’s horror, she looked sad.

“I made you sad.” Skye frowned, guilt settling in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t be sad, Mel, I’m sorry.”

Melinda opened her mouth to say something, but Skye was scared it was going to be something sad, so she rushed forward before Melinda got the chance and hugged her around the middle, pressing her face in to her stomach.

“Don’t be sad.” Skye said, although it came out muffled against Mel’s shirt.

Skye felt Melinda’s hand stroke the back of her head, and her stomach quiver slightly, in what Skye was thrilled to realise, was laughter. She looked up at her, keeping her arms around the woman.

“You’re okay, right?” Skye asked. “Even though I made you miss Bobbi and Natasha?”

“I’m _fine_.” Melinda assured her. “Skye, you didn’t make me sad, I always miss my babies, but I’m not sad.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” She pushed Skye’s hair behind her shoulders. “And you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because, I’ve got another baby now.” She smiled and stroked Skye’s cheek.

Skye cocked her head to one side in thought. “Who?” She asked. Skye had been promised she was the only kid in the house, if Phil and Melinda had other kids running around, she wasn’t sure if she would be wanted like they’d promised.

Melinda laughed and knelt on the ground. Like that she was just as tall as Skye, and she took Skye’s hands and wrapped them around her neck, rubbing little circles on the back of her hand with her thumbs.

“ _You’re_ my new baby, silly.” Mel grinned.

“Oh.” Skye said. “I am?”

“Well, only if you want to be.”

Skye thought about it. Back at the orphanage, some of the older girls she had shared a room with, made fun of her and called her a baby all the time. They laughed and called her a baby and it made Skye feel horrible inside, but the way Melinda said it, it like being a baby was a nice thing.

“I’m not a baby, though.” Skye said, suddenly concerned Phil and Mel wouldn’t want her if they realised she was too big. “I’m _eight_ you know.”

“Honey,” Mel smiled, stroking Skye’s hands, “Natasha is nineteen and Bobbi is twenty five and they’re _still_ my baby girls. Age eight definitely qualifies you to be my baby girl, if you want to be.”

“What do I have to do to be the baby?” Skye asked, now suddenly more inclined to take up this position, now that she knew Phil and Melinda’s daughters, too, were the babies.

“You don’t have to do anything.” Mel assured her. “You just need to be you. Just be Skye.”

“I can do that.”

“I know you can, you’re awesome at it.”

Skye grinned at her and accepted Melinda’s offered high-five with enthusiasm. She was pretty awesome at being Skye; certainly more awesome than she was at being _Mary Sue Poots_ , but Phil and Mel didn’t seem to expect her to be that person.

“Oh,” Mel said, grabbing Skye’s attention, “there is _one_ thing you have to do in order to be one of my babies.”

“What’s that?”

Melinda stood up, picking Skye up with her and hugging her tightly. “You have to give me lots and lots of cuddles!”

Skye laughed and squealed as Melinda tickled her sides and pressed kisses all over her face, making exaggerated kissy noises.

“Do you think you can be one of the babies?” Mel asked, continuing to tickle Skye.

“Yes!” Skye laughed.

“You _sure?_ ” Melinda blew a raspberry onto Skye’s cheek.

“ _Yes!”_ Skye squealed.

“Okay then.” Melinda placed Skye back onto her feet, grinning down at her. “Then it’s settled. Welcome to the family, baby girl.”

Skye smiled dizzily, stumbling slightly on her feet after all of the laughing. She glanced back at the decorated door of the playroom, eyes immediately drawn to Bobbi and Natasha’s faces, who smiled back at her in various photographs.

“ _Guys, it’s ready.”_ Phil called from the kitchen and Skye looked away from Bobbi and Natasha, back to Melinda.

She held out her hand to Skye. “Come on, let’s get some food.”

Skye took Mel’s hand and followed her back through the house, into the kitchen, a little mad that she hadn’t got the chance to look around the playroom.

“I promise you can hang out in the playroom for a little while later, okay?” Melinda said as if she had literally read Skye’s mind.

“Kay.” She replied, letting Melinda help her up onto one of the tall chairs surrounding the kitchen island.

Plates had been set out at three sittings on the island, and Melinda went to the fringe and poured a glass of juice to set by Skye’s plate.

“What do you say?” Melinda smiled, nodding towards the juice.

Skye paused, unsure what she meant.

“Ttthhh…” Melinda sounded out until the words she was looking for dawned on Skye.

“Oh! _Thank you_ , for my juice.” She said, feeling her cheeks get a little hot. Manners, Skye scolded herself, she should have known that. Sister Jane was always telling them how mommies and daddies like children who had good manners. “Thank you, Mel.” Skye repeated for good measure.

“You’re very welcome, Skye.”

Phil spooned some type of stir-fry onto their plates, pausing over Skye’s shoulder to give her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

“ _Thank you_ , Phil.” She smiled.

“You’re welcome, Skye.” He put the left overs, over by the hob, and came back around to sit at the island beside Skye. “Did you get a good look around the house?” Phil asked, beginning to dig in to his dinner.

Skye watched as Phil ate, then looked over to where Melinda was pouring glasses of water for her and Phil by the fridge. She picked up her fork but didn’t touch her food. Melinda put the jug of water back in the fridge and kicked the door shut, bringing the glasses over to the island.

“Skye?” She asked, sitting down on the other side of her.

“Yes?”

“You want to start eating?” Mel smiled, picking up her own fork. “I promise Phil is a good cook.”

Skye grinned at Phil and eagerly began shovelling the food into her mouth. “I thought I should wait ‘till you said I could.” She said, taking another mouthful. “This is good.”

“Why thank you.” Phil laughed. “I’m glad you approve of my cooking.”

“Compliments to the chef.” Melinda said, smiling.

“So, Skye. _Did_ you get to see the rest of the house?”

Skye shrugged and began answering with a mouthful of noodles. “Mm hmm, but not the-,”

“Chew and swallow please.” Phil said.

Skye hastily swallowed the food, but pulled the plate closer to her as she spoke. “I didn’t get to see the inside of the playroom, though.” She huffed and sucked up some more noodles messily.

“Oh, you’re missing out!” Phil laughed. “The playroom is _awesome_.”

Skye’s face fell. “It _is_?” He nodded, still smiling as she turned to Melinda. “You promised I could see it later. Right?”

Mel smiled, taking a sip of water. “Right.”

Skye relaxed. “Cool.” She stabbed at some chicken with her fork a few times, the food falling off continuously, until Skye put down her cutlery and used her hands instead. “I saw the door, though.” She said with her mouth full.

Phil tapped her shoulder and Skye tipped her head to look over at him, her hair dipping into the food. He rolled his eyes fondly and reached over to pull back her hair and tuck it into her t-shirt’s collar.

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, okay?” He said.

She nodded, picking up some noodles with her fingers and shoving them into her mouth, wiping the sauce off her cheeks with her hand.

Melinda pulled Skye’s plate further onto the island. “Slow down, baby.” She said. “There’s no rush. Eat too fast and you’ll get a tummy ache.”

“I _never_ get tummy aches.” Skye boasted, making the effort to swallow her mouthful of food before talking. “Never, ever, ever.”

“Despite that,” Phil smiled, “why don’t you slow down, let Mel and I keep up.” He passed her the fork.

Skye nodded, taking the fork, and paused before taking her next bite. She stabbed some chicken on the fork and picked it off her utensil, popping it into her mouth with her fingers, chewing slowly. Eating slowly was hard. Back at St. Agnes’, if she didn’t eat quickly, someone would finish her food for her.

“So,” Phil continued, “you saw our playroom door? Impressive, huh?”

“I liked it.” Skye smiled. “It has lots of drawings on it.”

“Yeah. Some of those drawings have been there for a very long time.”

“I liked Bobbi’s drawing best.” She murmured, looking to Melinda. “The one of the photograph.”

“ _Sisters._ ” Melinda said, and Phil nodded in acknowledgement. “You like drawing?” She asked.

Skye shrugged. She used to like colouring, a long time ago when she lived with Miss Macy. She had bought Skye lots of colouring things, and paints, and glitter glue. Skye had even made her a special card once that had taken her a very long time because she had had to wait for all of the glitter glue to dry before she could write on it, and Miss Macy had even put it up on the fridge, but then…well, sometimes she got made when Skye was bad.

And one day Skye was _very_ bad and Miss Macy had shouted at her and Skye had shouted back and it was hard to remember exactly what had happened, but Miss Macy had ripped up the card. Skye had got in a lot of trouble and Abby had even come to Miss Macy’s house because she had been so bad. Hitting was _always_ bad, Abby had said to Skye. After that, Miss Macy didn’t want Skye anymore. Abby had taken her back to St. Agnes’ with her, and Skye had had to leave all of her new things at the house.

Skye didn’t really like colouring anymore.

“You could maybe make a picture to go on the playroom door?” Phil suggested.

“I’m not good like Bobbi.” Skye mumbled. There was no food left on her plate, but she used the fork to draw patterns in the sauce.

“Oh, honey, it doesn’t matter how good you are.” Phil said gently.

Skye frowned and looked up at Phil. “What’s it about then?”

“Well, what about how much effort you put in?” He said.

She thought back to the card she had made for Miss Macy. Skye couldn’t imagine Phil and Melinda ripping down her drawings and putting them in the trash, but then, when she had first moved in with Miss Macy, she hadn’t imaged her being like that either.

“I guess.” Skye shrugged, and looked back to her empty plate. She didn’t want to talk about drawing anymore, it made her belly feel all tight and made her want to suck her thumb. “I saw Natasha and Bobbi’s photo.” She said to change the subject.

“You did?” Phil asked.

“And Hunter.” Melinda said with a smirk, standing and collecting all three of their plates. “Tell Phil what else you saw on the door.” She dumped the plates in the sink and turned on the taps.

“What else did you see?”

“She saw Hunter’s artwork.”

Phil’s face fell as Skye’s grin widened.

“Captain Phil-merica!” Skye shouted, laughing.

“You suck, Mel.” Phil groaned. “We need to take that down.”

“No!” Skye shook her head. “It’s so cool. You’re a superhero, Phil. You can save the world.”

“See,” Mel said, putting the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher, “Skye loved super-Phil.”

Phil shook his head. “I suppose if Skye likes it, it’ll have to stay up there.”

“Yay! Captain Phil!” Skye jumped down from her seat to run around the kitchen singing an improvised theme song for Phil. Just as she was reaching a crescendo featuring the lyrics ‘He can fly because he’s the guy!’, Skye was captured by Melinda. “Hey!” Skye protested, wiggling half-heartedly in her grasp.

“Sorry, super-girl, but you’ve got more food on your face and hands than you have in your tummy.” Melinda wiped her hands with a damp cloth and Skye stopped struggling to obediently let her clean her up.

“You’ve also got plenty of dinner in your hair.” Phil commented, walking over to them and picking at the tendrils of crusty hair that has escaped from her collar. “Super-girl needs a bath before bedtime.”

“Yes,” Mel agreed, “I think a bath is a good idea.”

“But you _promised_ I could go in the playroom.” Skye whined, stamping her foot. “You _promised.”_ She said angrily, throwing herself onto the floor in protest. “You can’t make me take a bath.”

Melinda passed Phil the cloth and he took it, leaving Skye’s line of sight to presumably return it to the sink. Somewhere else in the house, the phone rang but Melinda didn’t acknowledge it and it stopped after a couple of rings. Mel got down on the floor in front of Skye.

“M’not going in the bath, so _there_.” Skye grumbled. She wanted to go in the playroom, not the bath. Going in the bath always meant going to bed. Skye didn’t want to go to bed. “I wanna go play!” Skye kicked her legs at nothing.

The uncontrollable anger began bubbling over inside Skye and she slapped her hands down on the tiled floor, making them sting. She doubled over, pressing her forehead into the ground and shouted loudly. “No going! No!”

Skye sat up to see Melinda sat across from her and watching quietly. Skye made a few more angry noises and a long drawn out, frustrated squeal. “No bath! I’m not going in the bath. No!” An angry tear escaped Skye’s eye and Melinda reached out to wipe it away. The little girl whimpered and scrubbed at her eyes.

“Shh.” Melinda said gently. “You all finished with your tantrum?”

Skye huffed and crossed her arms over her chest grumpily. She didn’t feel like being angry anymore. She was too tired now. “Yes.” She squeaked, looking away.

“Okay, then.” Melinda said. “Look at me.”

Skye turned her head even further away, almost craning her neck enough to look at the cabinets behind her.

“Make a good decision, Skye. Look at me, please.”

Skye had been bad. She could make good decisions. She _could._ Skye looked at Melinda warily, but the woman didn’t look mad, just neutral. In fact, Melinda was so calm, that Skye was beginning to wonder if she was even really paying attention to her.

“Are you finished with your tantrum?” She asked again.

Skye nodded sheepishly.

“Tell me.” Melinda said. “Tell me that you’re all finished.”

“I’m all finished.” Skye said.

“Okay then. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen to me.” Melinda said. “You’re not in charge, Skye, and if either Phil or I tell you to do something, you do it.”

She paused and Skye nodded, assuming Melinda was waiting for some type of confirmation that Skye understood.

“Now,” Mel continued, “I made you a promise that you could have some time in the playroom tonight, and I intended to keep that promise, however, after you chose to get angry and have a tantrum, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Skye looked down at her hands. “Sometimes I can’t help it.”

“Can’t help what?”

“Getting mad.” Skye mumbled.

Melinda rubbed Skye’s knee. She looked up at the woman and Melinda gestured for her to move closer. When Skye was within reach, Melinda pulled her onto her lap and tucked Skye’s head under her chin.

“I know it’s hard, baby. Sometimes it’s easier to get angry than it is to do anything else, but you’ve got to try, okay?” She rocked Skye gently and stroked her back. “You’ve got to try and stay calm, because that temper is going to get you into trouble.”

It already had. Skye had gotten herself into hot water more times than she count because her anger had gotten out of hand. She cuddled in closer to Melinda and rubbed her thumb back and fourth over her lips.

“How about we make a deal?” Melinda asked.

“What kind of a deal?” Skye retorted.

“If you’re good, and you take a bath and get ready for bed, all without making any bad decisions and throwing tantrums, then you can play in the playroom for half an hour before bed. How does that sound?”

That all sounded pretty good to Skye. After throwing a fit like that, she had expected Melinda and Phil to march her off to bed immediately, and to ban her from the playroom altogether.

“I can be good.” She said, pulling back to look Mel in the eye properly. “I’m not lying,” Skye clarified, “I _can_ be good.”

“I believe you.” Melinda smiled. “You’re a good girl, Skye. You _are_.”

“M’sorry I got mad.” Skye said. And she really was. She didn’t like getting angry anymore than anyone else liked dealing with an angry Skye.

“You’re forgiven, baby.” Melinda kissed Skye on the head and gave her a long squeeze. Skye hugged her back, feeling much better now that she knew Melinda wasn’t mad. “Come on then, bath time.”

Melinda and Skye left the kitchen and walked through the living room, hand in hand, towards the stairs. Phil was lounging on the recliner armchair as they passed, talking on the phone. He gave them a little smile and a wave as they passed.

“Okay, honey, I’ll tell her.” He said, making a subtle gesture with one hand, causing Melinda to halt her and Skye’s progress to the stairs. “I’ll get her to call you back later tonight…yeah...okay” he smiled, “…okay, bubba I love you. Give Clint a hug from me…yeah…yes…okay. I love you, honey. Bye…bye.” Phil put the phone on the arm of the chair and turned to Melinda and Skye. “All okay?” He asked, looking between the two.

Mel looked down at Skye and squeezed her hand. “Yeah, we’re all good.” She looked back to Phil. “Nat?”

“Yeah. Good news.” Phil grinned.

“Oh?”

“Her classes got cancelled for next week, something about the scheduled protests at the White House.” He shrugged. “Anyway, Clint managed to get the time off of work, and so they’re flying out here Friday, gonna stay for the whole week and fly back on the Sunday.”

“That’s great!” Melinda grinned. “Oh, I’ve missed my bubba.” She said.

“Natasha is coming here?” Skye asked Phil.

“And Clint. For over a week! And she’s very excited to meet you, Skye.”

“She is? Why?” In her ample experience, Skye generally thought existing children of foster parents were less than thrilled when a new child turned up.

Phil laughed. “Nat’s been asking for a baby sister for a very long time.”

“She’s going to love you, little one.” Melinda said.

Skye smiled at Melinda’s smiling face. “She’ll like me?”

“Nat will _adore_ you, baby.” Melinda said, swinging their joined hands. “Now, bath time.”


	5. Skye's Treasures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your lovely words regarding this story, I am thrilled you all like it. 
> 
> To those who messaged me asking how I write my fic; I plan my chapters in advance, and write much of my future chapters long before they are published. I take at least a two hour session to edit them, if not more than that, before I publish. :)

Phil stayed downstairs, typing away on his laptop, apparently something to do with getting Natasha flights, while Melinda took Skye upstairs to her new room. Phil had already moved her bags of clothes into the bedroom at some point, but he had kindly left Skye’s backpack where it was in the living room for Skye to take upstairs herself.

Skye had given him her best smile for doing that. She had considered giving him a hug for half a second, but as much as she liked Phil, he wasn’t Melinda. The idea of hugging Phil still felt a little risky, a little scary. Maybe it was the extended interaction she had had with her new foster mother, or perhaps it was the particularly nasty experience Skye had suffered through with her pervious foster father, but something about Melinda just seemed safer, more comfortable to Skye. But the smile she had given him for not touching her backpack had made Phil smile too, and that made Skye feel especially good.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Melinda pointed to the door closest to them in the hall. “That’s your room, Skye.”

The room was the closest door to the top of the stairs on a hallway filled with similar dark wood doors. Directly opposite Skye’s new bedroom, facing the front yard, was Phil and Mel’s room, identifiable by the little wooden plaque on the front reading ‘The Bosses’.

“Bobbi bought us that a while ago.” Mel said, nodding to the plaque. “Bobbi likes things to be labelled.” She waved a hand at the rest of the doors. “She thought this sign was amusing. She said our door was too plain.”

“Huh.” Skye said, not particularly seeing the humour in it. She looked down the hall at each of the doors. Only one of them didn’t have something decorating the front of it, and that was Skye’s, the rest all featured some kind of embellishment, though from her position at the end of the hall, Skye couldn’t quite see what specifically, the further of the doors featured.

Melinda opened the plain door and gestured for Skye to enter. This introduction of the bedroom in the foster home was a ceremony she’d been through many times before. One that altered from home to home, but was generally in all past cases, a source of uneasy trauma.

Miss Macy had made somewhat of an effort for Skye’s arrival. She was a single woman in her late forties and Skye was only her second foster kid, the first having been a toddler who had been the light of her life until the baby’s biological mother had been deemed fit enough to care for her child and the baby girl had been taken away from Miss Macy. Skye had been shown to her new bedroom at Miss Macy’s house, only to find it was exactly as baby Hannah had left it, complete with crib and changing table. Skye had slept on an air mattress on the floor. But she _had_ bought her new sheets, even if they were pink.

Her last foster family, one Skye made a valiant effort not to recall too well, had shown her to a room already occupied by their youngest biological son, a vicious nine year old who did _not_ want a younger sister, period, never mind a younger sister sharing his room. From day zero Skye had known she was not welcome there, but the football-themed bedroom, in which she was not allowed to even place her few things in the empty drawer the boy’s parents had forced him to give her, cemented this in her mind. His three older brothers, and eventually his father, had all apparently shared the same opinion on Skye- she was dispensable, and the sooner they got her out of _their_ home, the better. In Skye’s experience, bedrooms seemed to set the tone for her stay.

Some families, like Phil and Melinda, were experienced foster parents, and so had a specific room dedicated to new kids. Skye had been in a few of them in her time, and those kinds of bedrooms were fine really, though they exuded the sense of temporary living. Better than the threatening feeling of her last foster home, or of the eerie feeling of intrusion in Miss Macy’s house, but still not particularly pleasant. That was what Skye was expecting; cold, plain walls (no specific colour scheme to avoid any kids’ triggers), only the basic furniture (bed, drawers, cheap stuff that could be easily replaced if damaged), plain gender and age neutral bed sheets (usually some kind of dark colour so they were less likely to be stained and last longer), no photographs, no toys, no cuddly animals, nothing personal. Rooms were clean but not comforting. The kind of room that looked okay to grown-ups but that Skye _knew_ had monsters living under the bed and in the shadows that would get her when she was left alone. That was what Skye was expecting.

Skye paused, hovering in the doorway and eyeing the carpet rather than risk seeing the inside of the bedroom. She was apprehensive.

“You want to have a look around your room, Skye?” Mel said, rubbing her back. “Phil put your other bags in there.”

Skye gripped her backpack with one hand and grabbed for Melinda’s with the other. Holding Melinda’s hand made the whole situation feel a little better, and Skye mustered up all of her bravery. Maybe if the monsters saw she was a brave girl, they wouldn’t bother her. Mel squeezed her hand and Skye squeezed back, being extra bold, and allowed herself to be gently tugged her inside of the room.

Melinda flicked on the lights with her free hand, and Skye looked around the bedroom. Her bedroom.

“Wow.” She breathed. “This isn’t a scary room.” She dropped Melinda’s hand. It wasn’t scary at all. Not the kind of place monsters would be living.

“No it isn’t.” Mel agreed. “Phil and I have taken special care to make sure that your bedroom is the safest and least scary room in the entire universe.”

Skye turned to her with a frown. “How did you do that?”

Melinda shrugged and walked over to the bed, a white wooden structure covered in brightly coloured fleece blankets, dropping down onto it. “Phil and I are the very best at making safe and cosy bedrooms. We’re experts.”

“You can make the monsters go away?” Skye asked, and Melinda’s expression twitched into something she didn’t really recognise, before just as quickly smoothing back into her comforting smile.

“Oh, Honey. Phil and I fight off all those monsters, we chase them away so that not only do they never come back, but they tell all of their monster friends about us and they even _those_ monsters won’t come anywhere here near this house!”

Skye gawked at her. “You _really_ do that? You scare the monsters?”

Melinda smiled and Skye couldn’t help but smile back, in awe of this woman who was so kind to her but who could chase away her demons.

“Phil and I keep all of our babies safe from the monsters.”

Skye nodded, she trusted that Phil and Mel were experts in keeping people safe. She wondered if they had chased away Bobbi and Natasha’s monsters, too. Perhaps she would ask when Natasha came home.

Skye took another, more detailed, look around the room. Melinda watched her quietly from the bed, smiling.

As far as bedrooms went, and Skye had had a lot, this room was pretty up there. In fact, Skye had already decided that this was the best bedroom she had ever had. It was absolutely perfect.

It was fairly plain, white walls and a cream carpet, but the monster scarers had put a fluffy blue rug in the centre and some pictures on the walls. One of them was a framed poster of the cover of Phil’s Captain America book. Skye knelt down to tickle the rug, feeling its softness, and dropped her head down to rub her cheek against the blue plush. She heard Melinda chuckle behind her.

The fluffy blankets on the bed matched the rug, and the white wood of the bedframe matched the wardrobe and chest of drawers. The bedside cabinet was the same blue as the rug, as was the desk. She had a desk. Skye rushed over to it and ran her hand over the blue plastic and white drawers. _Her very own desk_. There was even a desk chair with wheels on the bottom.

Skye turned back to where Melinda was lounging against the abundance of pillows on the bed. She opened her mouth to speak, but then Skye spotted the lamp in the shape of a star attached to the wall by Melinda’s head and her throat felt tight. She had to swallow a couple of times to make the feeling go away.

“It’s perfect.” Skye whispered.

“I’m glad you like it, baby.” Mel smiled. “I wasn’t sure what colours you would like but-,”

“It’s _perfect_.” Skye repeated. “I really like it.”

Skye _did_ like it. She loved it. Skye loved her room. _Her_ room.

She dropped her backpack on the rug and launched herself at Melinda on the bed. The woman laughed and made an ‘ooft’ noise as Skye landed on her, but she cuddled her close and kissed her head.

“I love my bedroom.” Skye whispered, hugging Mel tightly. No foster mother had ever done something so generous for her before. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. You like the blue?”

“It’s the best!” Skye shouted and hopped off the bed, parading around her bedroom. “I love it! I love it! I love it!” She chanted, running from item to item in the room. It was overwhelming, looking at all of the things Phil and Melinda had picked out for her. _Especially_ for Skye.

“Hey,” Mel said, standing up. “I’m going to run your bath, but you just keep…” she waved a hand at Skye’s continued mix of dancing and gawking at things in the room. “…doing what you’re doing.”

Skye nodded, grinning, and flicking the star lamp, by the bed, on and off. It gave the room a blue, yet warming glow, when she switched it on. “You’re the best mom ever!”

At the same time, Skye and Melinda seemed to realise what had left Skye’s mouth. Mel smiled; Skye’s face fell.

“I, er, I didn’t meant to…” Skye stuttered. Calling Melinda _that_ had been a slip of the tongue. She didn’t really mean it.

She didn’t… she’d meant to say _foster mom._ That’s what she’d meant, but then, it hadn’t come out of her mouth properly and…Skye felt her cheeks getting hot and dread pooled in her stomach. Her eyes burned. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Melinda said. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to run your bath, okay?”

Skye nodded. “Okay.”

…

Melinda began running Skye’s bath, turning on the taps and pouring in a little bubble bath. She sat on the closed seat of the toilet and took a deep breath, calling forth every meditation practice she knew to keep herself calm.

Skye had called her ‘mom’. Accidentally, yes, but had still said it. More than anything it was the shock of the situation, which had tattered Melinda’s usually calm persona, although she hoped for Skye’s sake that she’d managed to convincingly keep up the cool outer façade.

A few deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth, and Melinda had recovered from the little surprise. Her concern for Skye’s wellbeing began bursting forth, burying any lingering feelings of panic at being called ‘mom’ by the little girl. Skye had looked as though she had done something terrible. She had looked absolutely devastated that she had allowed herself to slip up in that way; panicked as if Melinda was going to reprimand her.

Mel had read Skye’s case file. If she were a slightly lesser person, she would not hesitate to kill the people who had destroyed her little girl’s outlook on life. As it was, she was instead concocting a list of people to screw over at the closest possible opportunity.

Skye had no idea what was actually acceptable in terms of behaviour. For too long she had been punished for things she should have _never_ been reprimanded for, and left to her own devices for long enough that she didn’t always remember what wasn’t allowed. That was one of the things she and Phil had discussed early on when reading all about Skye, that this child would need a positive reconditioning. But they could do that.

Look at Bobbi.

Look at Natasha.

They were capable of giving Skye a second chance.

Melinda turned her attention back to the bath, turning off the taps and dipping her hand in to test the temperature. Satisfied, she pulled a towel out of the linen cupboard and draped it over the radiator to warm up for Skye.

She left the bathroom and went back to Skye’s bedroom, listening for any signs that the little girl had resumed her song and recovered from the shock of calling Melinda ‘mom’, but as she approached the door it was decidedly quiet. Mel popped her head into the room to check on her little girl, and found Skye standing by the chest of drawers, organising items on the top.

“Skye.” Melinda said, walking over to her.

Skye jumped and whipped her head around. “Ohmygosh!” She gasped. “Oh, sorry. You scared me.” She grinned.

“I’m sorry.” Mel smiled. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“You’re like a ninja.”

“Well, that _was_ plan B.”

Skye laughed, and looked back to the top of the drawers. She had left the two plastic bags of clothes untouched, but her backpack lay open on top of the bed. Skye, on seeing Mel, not so subtly covered what looked like a couple of books with her backpack and shuffled back over to the drawers. Various items were scattered across the top of the drawers, although Skye was lovingly arranging the trinkets as Melinda watched, gently placing each thing down with so much care that one would believe she was handling priceless items.

But that’s what they were to Skye, though, weren’t they? Priceless.

The items Melinda could see were the most random and yet typically childlike articles she had seen treasured by a child. Bobbi and Natasha had been twelve and fourteen, respectively, when they had entered their home, and although they too had brought along some sentimental treasures, it had been nothing on the scale of Skye’s weird collection.

“You’re unpacking?” Melinda asked, sitting on the desk chair and shuffling it over to the drawers.

“Mmhmm.” Skye replied, focused on meticulously arranging what appeared at first glance to be a handful of crap, on a paper handkerchief. “My special things.”

“Your special things? Can I see them?”

Skye tuned to Melinda, taking a silent second to consider her before nodding once. “Some of them, and only the ones I say, okay?”

“Okay.” Mel agreed.

“And you can only touch then when I say so. _Never_ touch them without my permission.”

Melinda smiled. Skye and Natasha were certainly very similar when it came to the protection of their treasured items. Nat would be thrilled to have this little treasure as a sister.

“Okay. I promise never to touch them without your express permission.” She put one hand over her heart to prove her point.

This seemed to satisfy Skye, who picked up the paper handkerchief and cradled it gently in her hands. She held it out to Melinda and allowed her to peer inside. There, held inside the tissue, were a group of incredibly random items; a smooth grey stone, slightly larger than a grape; a white speckled cockle shell with a small hole at the top centre curve; a dull gold and silver one Euro coin; and a flat point screw, big enough that it most likely had come from some type of machinery.

“That’s some cool stuff you have there.” Melinda said.

“I know.” Skye replied, looking down at her treasures with fondness. “I got the pebble from a lake when we went with school one time.” She explained, pointing to corresponding item. “And the screw I found when I was digging in the grass at the park. The coin is from a place called Europe.” She told Mel. “That’s what my old teacher said. I got it off him for knowing what country the Eiffel tower is in.” Skye looked to Melinda, a serious expression on her face. “It’s in France.” She informed her.

“I see.” Mel grinned. “What about the shell?”

“Oh, that’s from a beach.”

“When did you go to the beach?”

“I’ve never been to the beach, but one time when I lived with Mr and Mrs Jackson, we went to the aquarium and the girl there gave me it.” Skye explained. She pointed to the little hole in the top. “You see that? It happens when a snail sucks the shell to get to the other animal in the middle and it sucks so hard that it make a hole.”

“That’s very cool.” Mel said. “You could made that into a necklace.”

Skye looked almost offended at the prospect and shook her head, returning the tissue of things to the top of the drawers. “No. It’s too special for that.”

“I understand. Can I see any of your other special things today, or…”

“You can see everything that’s on here.” Skye clarified, indicating the top of the drawers. Her bed remained littered with other items that Melinda assumed were either too private to be presented on the chest of drawers or not important enough to display. “But you _can’t_ touch them.” She reiterated.

“Of course. Maybe you can show me everything else after your bath, or maybe tomorrow. The water will be getting cold.”

“Kay. I’ll just put these away first.” Skye scooped up the items on her bed and carefully placed them back into her backpack, zipping it up and putting it at the foot of her bed with the bags of clothes.

“You got any pyjamas in there?” Mel asked, nodding to the clothing bags.

“Mmm.” Skye tipped the two bags upside down onto the carpet and began rifling through the clothes, occasionally picking up an item and scrunching up her nose in distaste.

Without even looking too closely, Melinda could bet that the majority, if not all, of the clothes in the bags were hand-me-downs from other kids at the orphanage. One pair of leggings in particular had at least two holes in that she could see. After a few seconds Skye stood and walked over to Melinda, holding out a couple of articles of clothing.

“I’ve got some other shorts, too.” She mumbled as Mel took the items. Skye rubbed her arm and looked away. “They don’t match…”

“That’s okay.” Mel said and tried her best not to seem appalled at the green threadbare polo shirt that must have been two sizes too big for little Skye, and the white gym shorts.

Melinda had doubted St. Agnes’ orphanage before. Countless kids had stayed with them who had unpleasant stories of mean nuns and nasty older children. She had heard even worse from Natasha, although _her_ memories were tainted with a frantic fear and terrifying anger. But actually seeing that the children could be given less than basic clothing, not even _actual_ sleepwear, was shocking.

Although her previous foster families had ended mostly badly, Mel knew they weren’t _all_ bad for the whole time. At some point, someone must have bought Skye pyjamas. She must have been bought new clothes. Where they were now…well, Melinda would be talking to Abby. It was no wonder Skye was so protective of her trinkets, if everything her foster parents had bought her had been taken away as soon as she had found herself back in the orphanage.

“Where did you get these?” Melinda tried to ask curiously, rather than accusingly, putting the shorts and shirt on the radiator in Skye’s room.

“Sister Jane gave them to me.” She said.

Melinda took Skye by the hand and led her to the bathroom. “She gave them to you? Didn’t you have pyjamas before?”

Skye shrugged and kept her eyes on the floor.

Mel tugged her into the bathroom and closed the door. She sat on the closed toilet seat and guided Skye to stand in front of her, putting her hands on the eight-year-olds shoulders.

“Skye. Look at me.” She instructed.

Skye looked up, peering at Melinda through dark lashes.

“You’re not in trouble, baby. I just want to know what happened to your other clothes because I _know_ you must have got some new ones at some point.”

“I guess, I got new ones sometimes.” Skye admitted. “Miss Macy bought me some new ones, but I didn’t get to bring any back with me.”

Melinda had read in Skye’s file about the abrupt end to her stay with Angela Macy. Skye had apparently reacted badly to being reprimanded by Macy and had ‘lashed out violently and unprovoked’ if the reports were to be believed. Melinda didn’t believe them. Kids weren’t bad just for the sake of it. However, she did feel slightly better knowing Skye’s new things hadn’t been ripped away from her on entering St. Agnes’. Although Melinda had a nasty feeling the nuns wouldn’t hesitate to remove new things from the children.

Skye cemented this suspicion. “Sometimes they take the new stuff away, to keep for some other kids.”

“We’re going to go shopping tomorrow.” Melinda smiled to cover her disgust, pulling Skye’s t-shirt over her head.

“We are? What for?”

“Well, you need to matching jammies, right?”

Skye frowned. “It’s okay. You don’t need to buy me anything.” She removed the rest of her clothes and climbed in the bubble bath.

Mel sat on the floor and rested her chin on the edge of the bathtub. “But what if Phil and I want to buy you some new stuff?”

“I…well, I guess, then it’s okay. If you _want_ to.” Skye began moulding the bubbles into mountains.

“You’re going to be going to a new school, you know.” Mel said. She and Phil had discussed how to have this conversation with Skye, unsure how she would react to moving schools, but now seemed as good a time as ever, when Skye was calm and in one place. “We could get you some new clothes for you to wear for school. Maybe a new backpack, too.”

Unexpectedly, the little girl’s face lit up. “I get to go to a new school?”

“Well you’re old one is a little too far away for Phil and I to drive to every day. Honestly, I thought you’d be a bit more upset about it.”

“No! I _hate_ my school. The kids are horrible and my teacher doesn’t like me.” Skye pouted. “She’s so mean to me.”

“I’m sure she likes you just fine.”

“Uh-uh.” Skye argued, letting Mel wash her face off with a washcloth. “She was mean to me. Not _just_ me, but _‘specially_ me.”

“How so?” Mel questioned.

Skye huffed and looked back down at the bubbles. “She only likes the smart kids.”

“You’re smart, Skye.”

“M’not. I’m stupid. My teacher gets mad when I can’t read the words in the book.” Skye swirled the bubbles around with her fingers. “And she doesn’t like helping with the number work if I get stuck.”

Melinda reached out to touch Skye’s face, encouraging her to look up. “Hey, I don’t ever, _ever_ want to hear you call yourself that.” Mel said. “You might find some things difficult, but if your teacher doesn’t help you or gets angry at you, well, that’s her fault. _She’s_ stupid.”

Melinda added ‘Skye’s old teacher’ to the mental list of people to chase down and make life hell, for hurting her little girl. So far she had nine foster families, several nuns, and now the teacher. It was becoming quite the catalogue.

Skye peered at her with wide eyes. “Do you think my new teacher is nice?” She asked quietly.

Melinda smiled, and smoothed out Skye’s worried expression with a few strokes of her thumb. Skye leaned into her touch and let a tiny smile grace her lips.

“I _know_ your new teacher is nice.” Skye brightened at that. “She’s a friend of mine and Phil’s. Used to work for us while she was in college. She’s a _very_ nice teacher. Very kind.”

“Really?” Skye grinned, then let her expression fall as another thought seemed to hit her. “She worked for you? What’s your job?”

Melinda reached over Skye for the showerhead attached to the wall. “Phil and I own the gym she taught yoga at.” She turned on the tap and tested the temperature on her hand.

“A gym? Like with running machines and fake bikes?”

Melinda snorted and began showering Skye’s long hair. “You mean treadmills and exercise bikes?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’ve got those, but we’ve also got swimming pools and gymnastics classes and trampolines and lots of fun stuff to do.” She reached over to grab the shampoo. “Close your eyes, baby.” Skye did, and Mel quickly washed and rinsed her hair, rubbing conditioner through.

“That sounds fun.” Skye said, eyes still closed. “I like trampolines.” She paused as Mel began detangling her hair as gently as she could manage. “Is that how you and Phil are so rich, because you own a gym?”

“We’re not rich, we’re-,”

“ _Comfortable,_ I know.”

Melinda couldn’t help but laugh at Skye. “Right, comfortable.” She washed all the conditioner off. “And anyway, we own _three_ gyms. Okay, I’m done, open your eyes.”

Skye did, and Mel sprayed her face with the shower. The little laughed and spluttered, rubbing the water out of her eyes.

“Hey!”

“Just making sure you’re all clean.” Mel smiled. “Come on, then. If you stay in the tub any longer, you’ll turn into a raisin.”

…

After getting ready for bed, Melinda brushed and dried Skye’s hair. She was the gentlest hair-brusher Skye had ever experienced, and when she was led downstairs, Skye felt almost giddy with excitement.

The playroom awaited.

Phil was still typing away on his laptop when Skye skipped over him, grinning madly. “Phil, Phil, we’re going in the playroom!” She looked round to Mel. “Right?”

“Yes, baby. Thirty minutes, them bed. That’s what we agreed.”

“That sounds like a fair agreement.” Phil smiled, closing the computer and placing it on the coffee table. He looked at Skye, then looked over to Mel.

“We’re going shopping tomorrow.” She said and he nodded. “Gonna get Skye some new jammies, right?”

“Yeah.” Skye agreed. She was looking forward to getting new pyjamas.

Phil stood up. “Playroom time?” He asked. Skye nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

Skye took his offered hand and practically dragged the man to the decorated door of the playroom, Mel following. When they reached the door, Skye paused, unsure of how to continue. As excited as she was, it felt almost like an intrusion now that she was standing there.

Natasha and Bobbi smiled at her from their photographs. What if Natasha and Bobbi didn’t want Skye to go in their playroom? In her last foster family, the other kids had either hit or kicked her if she even tried to touch some of their things.

“You want to go in, Skye?” Phil prompted.

Skye looked up at him. He was smiling at her. “Okay.” She said, but made no effort to open the door. Seeming to sense her unease, Phil reached for the handle and pushed opened the door to the playroom.

The only other experience with a playroom Skye had, was when she was in kindergarten, and there was a ‘playroom’ attached to the classroom. That had been a box room with plastic crates of well-played with toys, and old dress-up clothes. That’s kind of what Skye had been expecting. Hand-me-down toys from the kids gone by.

That was not what she saw.

Next to her, Phil ushered her in with a hand on her back.

The room was incredible. Bigger than the _actual_ living room. It had posters covering most of the walls, many of them, Skye noted, were some form of Captain America’s image. One of the walls, though, was completely covered with a giant bookcase, filled top to bottom with appealing spines, some at the bottom looking skinny, the ones higher up looking much thicker.

Skye wandered over to where the toys were in a corner opposite the bright red couch where Mel and Phil had sat themselves. They were watching her with their arms around each other and smiles gracing their faces. Skye smiled back.

They had lots of toys. Baby dolls sitting in car seats with drawers full of clothes; Barbies and Ken dolls set up in a doll house that was taller than Skye was; a huge box of Lego with several scenes already built and displayed on a little table above it. There was so much more than that, too. It was so overwhelming that Skye found herself migrating back over to the couch and climbing on Phil and Mel’s laps.

“You like it?” Mel asked, brushing her hair out of her face. Since washing it, Skye’s hair was feeling particularly fluffy.

“Yes.” Skye said. “I…” She trailed off, as a large desk with a computer and two chairs caught her eye. Clear plastic drawers by the desk contained what looked to be coloured paper and pens. “This room has everything.”

“Well, I tried to cover all bases when I first made it.” Phil said. “And now I keep it well stocked.”

“Why do you have so many toys, though?” Skye questioned, eyeing the Barbies. “If Natasha and Bobbi are all grown up?”

Melinda snorted. “Honey, it doesn’t matter what age they are, they’re all kids forever. Even Phil has some of his toys in here.”

“They’re _action figures.”_ He argued. Phil tugged Skye into his lap and rested his head on her shoulder, keeping his eyes level with hers. “See the baby dolls?” He asked, and Skye nodded. “Nat likes to play with them.”

That seemed odd, Skye thought, for Natasha to want to play with dolls.

“A long time ago,” Melinda explained, “Natasha used to take care of a lot of babies, and sometimes she used to feel very mad when she first came to stay with us.”

“Like me.” Skye said.

“A little bit like you.” Mel agreed. “And the thing that made her feel better, when she was mad, was dressing all the baby dolls, just like she used to dress the babies.”

Skye looked back at the little dolls, all immaculately dressed in tiny dresses and dungarees. Each had a pacifier in its mouth, which was attached to their clothes with a line. There weren’t many babies at the orphanage now, but at one time there had been quite a few who were still too small to walk, waiting to be adopted. The babies cried a lot, but Skye had been pretty good at cheering them up with funny faces and shows she would put on with the teddy bears.

“You can’t get mad around babies.” Skye said. “Then they get sad, too.”

“That’s right.” Phil said. “You see the Lego?”

“Uh-huh.”

“We got most of that after Clint moved in.” He smirked. “He likes building things. Clint was eighteen when he moved in. An _actual_ adult. So you see why we have so many toys, because all our adults are children.”

Skye spied the Barbies again. One blonde and one brunette doll were sat at a kitchen table in the dollhouse, tiny mugs in front of them. Skye imagined they were discussing their jobs. Maybe they worked at a gym. The blonde was a lifeguard and the brunette was a yoga teacher and they were best friends.

“What about the Barbies?” Skye asked, sliding off Phil’s lap and shuffling over to the dollhouse on her knees. “Who do they belong to?”

“Bobbi.” Mel said behind her. “She brought a few of them with her when she moved in that were hers when she was very small, and even when she was a teenager she liked buying new accessories for them with her allowance. She just liked to set them all up, I think.”

Skye reached out to touch the two dolls sitting at the miniature table, but pulled her hand back at the last minute. If Bobbi had spent time arranging the dolls just as she liked, Skye didn’t want to mess them up.

“You know, Bobbi won’t mind if you want to play with them.” Melinda said.

Skye turned around to face her. “I don’t want to mess them up.”

“What if I ask her if you can play with them?”

“You could ask her?”

Melinda put her hand into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “Sure. It’s just after lunch in England. Bobbi will be at work, but that’s okay. Should I ask her?”

Skye looked back at the Barbies. “Yes please.”

It only took a few minutes for Mel’s phone to chime with Bobbi’s reply, and Skye looked over at her hopefully. “What did she say?”

Mel smiled, reading the text, then held the phone out to Skye. She took it and began reading the message aloud.

“’Of cor-course Skye can play with my B-Barbies.’” Bobbi had put an exclamation point after that. “’It makes sense that they get played with by an ac-ac-tu-al, actual, kid and not a grown woman.’” Skye stopped reading after that, too thrilled that she had been given permission by Bobbi. She looked up and Mel and Phil, feeling the need to confirm. “So I get to play with them?”

“Yep.” Mel laughed. “She said you can. Read the rest.”

Skye looked back at the text and scrolled down to the next part. “’Tell my new little sister I can’t wait to meet her. Tell her I pro-promise to play Barbies with her when I come home.’” Skye smiled and re-read the text. Bobbi had said she was her little sister. Skye had never been anyone’s sister before. _And_ Bobbi wanted to play with Skye. She didn’t seem mad at all that Skye wanted to play with her toys.

“Skye?” Phil asked and she looked up at him. “You want to play for a little while, before bed?”

She nodded and handed back Melinda her phone. “Tell Bobbi I’ll be _super_ careful with her dollies and I’ll take good care of them ‘till she comes home.”

“I will.” Mel smiled.

The Barbies beckoned Skye over to the dollhouse and she began playing with the yoga instructor and her lifeguard friend, being extra gentle not to mess up their hair, so Bobbi would be pleased with her when she came home. Skye wanted her big sisters to like her.


	6. Skye's Going Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, PLEASE check out this epic edit made for me by [SmudgeQueen!](http://smudgequeenblr.tumblr.com/post/110851828060/inspired-by-panicmoon15s-fanfiction)
> 
> If you would like to make me an edit, PLEASE DO! I would love to see some more fanart for this fic! Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Skye awoke to the strange sensation of complete relaxation. Back at St Agnes she was mostly awoken by the screaming of other kids and the knowledge that she had to get up and join them. It tended to stir up a feeling of dread low in her stomach on a morning.

Here though, her new bedroom was quiet, the blinds closed and her star lamp still casting a blue glow over the walls. At some point while asleep, Skye had managed to pull most of a blue fleece blanket up to her face, so that she was snuggling it in both arms. It felt nice to wake up naturally and not to be awoken by the orphanage’s buzzer and the shouting of other kids.

Stretching, and cuddling back into the blanket, Skye closed her eyes and smiled, thinking of the night before. It was the best night ever. She had played (very carefully) with Bobbi’s Barbies, before Mel and Phil had taken her up to bed, and Phil had finished reading her the end of Captain America’s book. To her absolute joy, the superhero beat the Red Skull and saved all of the people from his wrath. The foggy, still sleepy part of Skye’s brain dredged up images of a dream she might have had during the night, involving Captain America saving the day, but they were quickly flitting away as consciousness began to get the better of her.

The sound of her bedroom door opening, prompted Skye to open her eyes again, and thoughts of Captain America were replaced by the image of Melinda, already dressed, poking her head around the door.

“Hey, there.” Mel said, coming in the room and sitting on the edge of Skye’s bed. “Good morning.” She brushed a hand through Skye’s hair.

“Mornin’” Skye mumbled sleepily and sat up.

“You sleep okay?”

“Yes. What time is it?” There was a clock on the other side of the room, but it was analogue and Skye still struggled with those.

“Good girl. It’s just after nine.”

Skye raised her brows in surprise. They’d let her sleep pretty late. Back at St. Agnes’, the latest they were allowed to sleep was seven-thirty, even on the weekends. Something about ‘routine keeping them all in line’.

“You still up for going shopping today?” Mel asked.

Skye nodded. “Matching jammies.” She remembered with a smile, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Yep. Maybe some new school stuff, too.”

Melinda was smiling at Skye, sitting on her bed, and the little girl was suddenly struck with the urge to remind Melinda just how grateful she was for her new bedroom, for how kind she and Phil were being. Skye pushed the blankets away from her legs and crawled over to Mel, plonking herself into her lap and wrapping her arms around her foster mother’s neck.

“Thank you.” She said, feeling Melinda hugging back, returning the embrace. Melinda didn’t say anything back, but she kissed Skye’s cheek and pressed her nose into her hair. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s not something you ever have to thank me, or Phil, for. Looking after you is _our_ pleasure.” Mel said. “But you’re welcome, nonetheless, little baby.”

Skye smiled and hugged Melinda just a little bit harder, just to make sure that the women _really_ knew Skye was grateful.

“You want to get dressed and get some breakfast?” Mel asked, pulling back.

“Yep.” Skye grinned, and shuffled out of bed behind Melinda. “Where’s Phil?”

“He’s cooking breakfast.” Mel sat on the ground by the pile of Skye’s clothes. “So the quicker you get dressed, the quicker you can eat.”

…

As much as Melinda had been looking forward to getting Skye some new clothes, and as much as Phil had wanted to spoil the little girl a bit with some toys, admittedly, Phil had been somewhat dreading taking the eight-year-old shopping. His experience with taking their foster children to the mall in the past had ended in various scenarios, though most were less than relaxing.

Skye, however, was proving to be a little angel during their outing. Phil’s natural instincts told him to be suspicious of her perfect behaviour (she could have some sort of plan of action ready to be put in place- he thought back to Nat), but Phil decided to give her the benefit of the doubt once he saw how excited Skye got over buying a few sets of jammies. Her cuteness was killing him.

“I like that one.” Skye pointed up a purple t-shirt covered in various images of cats wearing sunglasses.

“You like cats?” Mel asked, sifting through to find Skye’s size.

“Mmhm.” She nodded, swinging the hand that she held of Phil’s. “I like _all_ animals. All of them. Cats and dogs and ponies and bunnies and sharks if they're on TV and not in real life and snakes and-,”

“Wow. You _do_ like animals.” Phil laughed. He smirked at Melinda as she dropped the cat shirt into the cart. “Nat likes animals too, right Mel.”

She glared at him. “ _Right_.”

“She does?” Skye beamed, tugging on his hand. “Does Natasha have any pets? I _always_ wanted a pet.”

“ _Actually_ , Nat does have a pet.” Phil said, tugging Skye along to where the leggings were, and giving Melinda another sly smirk.

Natasha had a beloved pet that she loved to death, Clint liked a fine amount, Phil tolerated, and Melinda _hated._ One of Phil’s favourite past times was reminding Melinda of the animal’s existence. She scowled at him.

“Yeah, and it likes to escape in the house.” Mel grumbled.

“What is it?” Skye was practically humming with excitement, ignoring Melinda’s attempts to get her to choose some leggings. “A puppy? A hamster? A _lizard_?”

“You’re closer with lizard than puppy.” Phil smirked.

“Huh?” Skye cocked her head.

“It’s a spider.” Phil said and Mel made a face.

Skye’s mouth fell open comically. “She has a pet _spider_?”

“Well, a tarantula.”

“Cool.”

“It’s not _cool.”_ Mel said, tapping Skye on the head. “It’s _awful_.” She said it with a little smile though, so Phil liked to think she had some semblance of fondness for the tarantula she claimed to hate so much.

“You’ll meet Nat’s little, although not little enough, friend soon.” Mel said, changing the subject. “Now come on, pick some leggings. Look, they’ve even got ones with cats on.”

Skye squealed and dropped Phil’s hand, taking Mel’s instead and pouring over the various patterns of clothes. She was certainly easier to shop with than their other kids had been.

During their few years as emergency carers, Phil and Mel had never really _had_ to take kids shopping for new clothes, because they only stayed with them for a few days at a time. The first child they’d cared for, for longer than a week, had been Trip, and he’d _had_ all of the necessary items with him, having brought them from home.

Trip’s stays with the Coulsons had been for four or five weeks every few months when his grandmother had been ill and in hospital. He’d been one of the few kids they’d cared for who hadn’t been abused or neglected; only needing care when his grandmother’s illness flared up. The incredible woman had died a couple of years ago, comfortably in her own home with Trip by her side, safe in the knowledge he had a family in the Coulsons to look after him, despite his adulthood. Phil smiled to himself as he thought to the young man working back at their gym as a trainer and volunteering for all of the kids’ club activities. Trip was a kind soul. His grandmother would be proud. Phil certainly was.

“Hey, Phil?” Skye interrupted his musings.

“Hm?”

She held up a shirt in front of his face with the hand that wasn’t holding Mel’s. “I like this shirt ‘cause it has a dragon off a movie on it, but it’s in the boy section.” Her face scrunched up. “Mel says I can still get it, is that right?”

“Sure.” Phil shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what the store says. Girls can wear boys clothes.”

Skye nodded to herself and placed the t-shirt gently into their cart. “And boys can wear girls clothes, too, right?”

“Um…I guess.” He smiled, eyeing Melinda and noting her proud smirk.

“Good.” Skye declared, and conversation apparently over, went back to looking at the ‘boys’ clothes with a newfound vigour.

Oh, Bobbi was going to love this little one; a love for animals _and_ a complete disregard for gender stereotypes? Phil smiled. Skye was going to make Bobbi a very happy big sister.

It was just after Trip had returned to living with his grandmother after one of her stints in hospital that Bobbi had first arrived. She’d been twelve, skinny, looking more like nine or ten, and owned only clothes that either no longer fitted or had been passed down from her older brother. Not too far off Skye’s current state. Also like Skye, she had arrived in the middle of a school semester, meaning Phil and Mel had needed to take her to buy school clothes and shoes.

The twelve year old had refused point blank to speak to either Phil or Mel for the first five days she had stayed with them, meaning the trip to mall had consisted of both of the adults just guessing at what a twelve year old would want to wear and Bobbi refusing to try anything on. That had been a _long_ day for Phil, who had little patience for shopping on a good day. Although Bobbi’s trip couldn’t hold a candle to taking Natasha to the mall for the first time. Now, _that_ had been a day.

For all that Phil had been secretly dreading this Sunday shopping trip with little Skye, the kid was proving significantly easier to deal with out and about and Nat and Bobbi had been, even if she had refused to pick out any toys, thus far. Although, Phil suspected as the day went one, a lot of Skye’s obedience in public may have had something to do with her fear of other people, and _that_ broke Phil’s heart.

At all times in the two hours since leaving the car, Skye had consistently remained tied to either Phil or Mel, holding their hands like a lifeline. She smiled at the shop attendants who rang up their purchases in each shop, and confidently told the guy in the shoe shop that she ‘ _did not want the pink sneakers that the other little girls all wanted’_ , but when strangers walked too close to her, or the lines in the stores began to get crowded, Skye gripped Phil’s hand and sank behind him like a startled puppy.

For this reason, Phil had whispered a quick excuse in Mel’s ear, kissed her cheek, and left her to pay for their things, taking Skye out into the less crowded part of the mall, outside of the store.

A particularly rowdy group of teenagers passed them by while Melinda was paying for hundreds of dollars worth of clothes in a crowded children’s store, the teens shouting and laughing, chasing each other through the mall. A few other shoppers were giving them disapproving looks, but Skye seemed positively terrified. She whimpered and hid behind Phil, gripping is arm with both hands.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Phil said, turning around and kneeling in front of Skye. “What’s up, honey?”

Skye snivelled and Phil noted the sudden shine in her dark eyes, tears threatening to spill over at any provocation. “They were scary.” She mumbled, glancing worriedly in the direction of the unruly teens that were now hovering by a pretzel stand.

“It’s okay.” Phil stroked her cheek. “They’re just silly boys. They think they’re funny making lots of racket.” This didn’t seem to reassure Skye, especially as a round of laughter from the teenage boys started her, making the first tears fall. Phil wiped them away with his thumbs. “You know when you’re with Mel or I, we’ll never let anything happen to you?”

“Never?” Skye said.

“Never. Skye, I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

Since meeting Skye, Phil had had very little time alone with her. She tended to stick close to Melinda, and although he felt no animosity from the little girl, it was obvious that Skye felt more confortable with a female presence. Whatever had sparked that, and Phil could guess from having read Skye’s file, made him all the more determined to bond with her.

The boys rushed passed them for the second time, scaring Skye, and before she could get upset again, Phil lifted the little girl off her feet and into his arms.

“Ssh, little one, I’ve got you.” He said.

For a second, Phil though he may have done more damage to the situation by picking up Skye as she went stiff in his arms, but then just as quickly, she relaxed and hid her face in Phil’s neck, wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, Skye.”

He found a bench just outside of the clothing shop Melinda was still queuing in, and sat down with Skye on his lap. The little girl was trembling in his arms. He stroked her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

When she didn’t seem to be calming down after a few minutes, Phil tried another tried and tested tactic. Distraction.

“Hey, Skye.” She looked up at Phil. “If you could have any animal as a pet, any animal in the _whole_ _entire_ world, what would you have?”

“Any animal and it wouldn’t kill me if I kept it in the house?”

“Sure.” Phil laughed.

“Polar bear.” Skye said without pause.

Phil cocked an eyebrow in question. “A life size one, or like, a mini polar bear?”

“A life size one!” Skye grinned, shifting on Phil’s lap, seemingly having forgotten about the scary teens. “Did you know, Phil,” she brushed her hair out of her face excitedly, “that, um that, polar bears’ve got black skin? Their fur isn’t white either!”

“It’s not?”

“Nope! It’s clear, but it just looks white because, there’s, um, there’s so much of it.”

Phil smiled. “You’re an expert. How do you know all of that?”

“I saw it on TV and we had a book at school once.” Skye looked over at the store Melinda was inside. “I like polar bears.” She said wistfully, the scrunched up her nose. “’Cept that they eat seals. I don’t like thinking ‘bout that.”

“Right.” Phil shook his head with a smirk.

Skye twitched on his lap, but didn’t jump off. “Mel!” She called, waving her over.

Melinda smiled at Skye, a bulging bag of clothes in each hand as she walked over to them. Mel dropped the bags by Phil’s feet and put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it lightly through his t-shirt. He turned his neck to kiss her thumb.

“Getting hugs?” She asked, looking between Phil and Skye.

The little girl nodded and wrapped an arm around Phil’s shoulder. “Yeah. There was scary boys.”

“Oh no, there was?” Mel crouched down.

“But Phil protected me. So it’s okay.”

“Well, that’s good.” Mel kissed Skye’s head, then stood and kissed Phil on the mouth. “We’re all done?”

“I’ve got enough new clothes to last me until I’m thirty! Or a hundred!” Skye laughed. “Thank you, guys.” She said quietly, cheeks red, still smiling.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Mel smiled. “Why don’t we take these to the car?”

“Actually,” Phil interjected, standing up and putting Skye on her feet, “I think me and Skye have one more stop to make.”

“We do?” Skye frowned.

“We do.” Phil assured her.

Melinda nodded and picked up the bags. “Okay then. I’ll go and take these to the car, meet you there in…?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Sure. See you in a bit.”

Phil took Skye’s hand, and began leading her over to a store he had never entered in his life, but that he had stared in the window of, more times than he would care to admit.

…

It had been the _greatest_ day.

Skye had really had a fantastic day.

Melinda had let her pick out any clothes she had wanted, even the brightly coloured t-shirts and leggings that Sister Margaret would _never_ have allowed her to wear. She had picked out more sets of pyjamas than there was days in the week, some purple slippers to wear with them, and more underwear than Skye thought that she would _ever_ be able to get through. Skye had even been allowed to pick out several pairs of shoes and boots and the shoe store; she was particularly excited to show off her knew blue sneakers that lit up when she walked, especially since the man had let her wear them out of the store.

Phil, although hadn’t been too enthralled by clothes shopping, had shown Skye to the toy section of one of the department stores, introducing her to the many Captain America toys and merchandise. Both he and Melinda had encouraged her to pick out some toys, but she had turned them down. There were plenty of toys back in the playroom, and anyway, they had already spent far too much on Skye just buying her clothes, she didn’t _need_ any toys, no matter how much she may have _wanted_ them.

“Where are we going, Phil?” Skye asked, craning her neck to watch Melinda’s retreating figure taking the bags to the car.

“Well,” Phil said, “I can’t buy you a real-life polar bear. I don’t think our yard’s big enough to house a bear and PETA might get a little mad, _but_ , what I can do, is get you the next best thing.”

“What do you mean?”

Phil stopped walking when they reached a large store filled with other children, many older andyounger than Skye. She shrank back a little, intimidated by the sheer number of people in the store. People were scary. Lots of people Skye didn’t know, well, she didn’t like thinking about the bad things people did.

Once, when she lived with her last foster family she had got lost in the grocery store and her foster father and brothers had left her there and gone home. They’d done it on purpose, though no one believed her. Abby still insisted it had been an ‘honest mistake’, despite the other things the man had done while Skye was living there. Waiting in the security office until her foster mother had picked her up was scary. Skye didn’t want to get lost again.

“Phil…” She trailed off, focusing on the people in the store.

“You know when you’re with me, nothing can hurt you. I’ll protect you.” He assured, and really, that _did_ make Skye feel a lot better, but…

“What if I get lost in there?” She mumbled. “That’s a big store.” She clung onto Phil’s sleeve and let her eyes roam over the store’s entrance, ignoring the enticing toys that watched her from the windows.

“You won’t.” Phil said with confidence. “C’mere.” He lifted Skye off her feet and onto his hip and walked them into the store before Skye even had a chance to register her fear.

It was _very_ busy in the store, but as she looked around from her high vantage point in Phil’s arms, Skye suddenly realised why that was. The whole store, wall to wall, was filled with stuffed animals. It was _amazing._

“Where _are_ we?” She asked, gawking at all of the toys.

“Well, you wanted a polar bear, right?” Phil asked, and Skye nodded, eyes falling on a stuffed orange pony behind his head. “You can choose anything you like here, any toy you want, but if you’d still like a polar bear, I’m sure they have one here.”

She spotted a bright green teddy bear being hugged by a little boy by the counter. “They have polar bears?”

“We can ask.” Phil walked over to one of the brightly dressed employees, and Skye continued looking around at all of the various stuffed animals on the shelves.

“Hey look, Phil.” Skye said, tapping his shoulder. “They have spiders!” She gawked at the plush spider, (that didn’t really look anything like a _real_ spider with its black glittery fur, purple feet, friendly smile and eyelashes) and craned her neck to get a better look. Maybe Natasha would like a cuddly spider, since as far as Skye knew, you couldn’t really hug a tarantula.

Phil glanced over in the direction Skye was pointing. “Oh, yeah. That’s cool.”

“Like Natasha’s spider.” She said.

Phil laughed. “Thankfully, Nat’s spider is significantly smaller, although Mel might like it a bit more if it had a smile…or shoes.”

Skye was still focused on the spider plushie when Phil began speaking to an employee.

“How can I help you, today?” The young woman asked Skye, barely looking at Phil.

Skye began feeling a little shy, and tightened her arms around Phil. She didn’t really want to speak, but that was okay because Phil spoke for her. Skye hugged him a bit tighter to say thanks.

“We were looking to get Skye here a new toy. Maybe a polar bear?”

Skye nodded in agreement.

“Okay!” The employee grinned. “I think we have a polar bear who is looking for a new home. Maybe you would like to take him home?”

If there was a polar bear looking for a new home, well, Skye knew how that felt.

“Yes.” She said. “I’d like to take him home.”

“Great! Let’s get you all set up!” The employee grinned and ushered them over to a bin filled with what Skye could only identify as deflated polar bears.

“Why are they all flat?” She asked.

“Thing is, these bears need some love to fill them all up with cuddles. So what _you_ need to do is pick your polar bear, and we’ll get him all fluffed up.”

Next to her, Phil was smirking and seemed to be attempting to hold in a laugh, but Skye ignored him and wiggled in his arms until he put her down. She bent over the bin and stared at all of the faces of polar bears looking up at her.

“You gonna pick one, Skye?” Phil asked.

She stared into the bin, but all of the polar bears looked back at Skye with their sparkly blue eyes, and it was just so _hard_ to pick, so Skye did the only logical thing she could think of, and closed her eyes and thrust her hand into the box. She’d let fate decide which polar bear to bring home.

…

Twenty minutes in the Build-A-Bear store had turned into thirty, once Skye had spotted the clothing for the bears and had been assured that she _could_ pick out an outfit for the polar bear. A large part of Phil was thrilled that she had chosen the Captain America outfit for the arctic bear; he texted Melinda exactly this as he was letting her know of their delayed arrival to the car.

“So,” Phil asked, hovering over Skye as she sat at the tiny computer desk in the store, “what are you going to call him...or her?”

It had taken the little girl a good ten minutes to fill in the rest of the information of the bear’s birth certificate, needing a little help from Phil for some of the larger words, but now she was looking from the bear to the computer screen with a little frown on her face.

“He’s a boy. And m’not sure.” She cocked her head at the white teddy bear, dressed to the nines in its Cap costume. “What’s your name, little polar bear?”

The bear failed to reply, or at least Phil didn’t hear him reply, but Skye leaned close to the teddy, nodded and began slowly typing a name into the computer. She paused, finger hovering over the keys, and turned to Phil.

“How do you spell ‘snow’?” She asked. “I put that, but it doesn’t look right.”

Phil crouched down by the screen. So far, Skye had typed ‘Mr. Sno’ in the name box.

“You almost got it, Skye. You just need a ‘w’ on the end.”

“Cool. So, this is Mr. Snow, the polar bear. Y’know, because he lives in the snow.” She said seriously. Phil smirked at her. As cute as Skye was, he had to admit, her ability to name stuffed animals was mediocre at best. Perhaps Tasha could suggest a first name for Mr. Snow when she came home.

Phil printed off the ‘birth certificate’ for Mr. Snow and checked the time on his phone. “Okay, c’mon, Skye. We better go find Mel at the car.”

But Skye didn’t seem to have heard him. All of her attention remained on the black glittery spider, high up on a shelf. Phil followed her gaze.

“Does Mr. Snow need a friend?” He asked.

“Huh?”

“The spider. We could get it, so that Mr. Snow could have a friend.”

“I don’t want it for me, though.” Skye said quietly, standing to collect the print out of the ‘birth certificate’ and tucking Mr. Snow under the other arm. “I think that Natasha would like to have a spider. One she could hug. For a present, when she comes home.”

Phil felt his heart melting. Like, he was _actually_ concerned that it could be a serious medical condition caused by the absolute adorableness of his little girl. “You’d like to get Nat a present?”

Skye looked at the ground. “If…yeah…unless, unless you think she wouldn’t like it, then it doesn’t matter.” Skye said quickly, blushing. “She probably would think it was stupid. She’s a big girl. It doesn’t matter.”

“Skye, I think Natasha would _love_ it if you got her the spider.” Phil smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“But we have to go and find Mel.”

“Let me worry about that.” He smiled, already constructing a text to Melinda with his free hand, and steering Skye over to the bin of spiders with his other.

…

While texting Phil back, letting him know that she was fine waiting for him and Skye in the car, and laughing to herself at the glee she could just imagine on her husband’s face when Skye chose the Cap outfit for her bear, Mel’s phone began to ring.

“Hey, Maria.” Mel said, propping her feet up on the dash as she answered. What Phil didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “Calling me on a Sunday from the gym? I assume it’s not just to say ‘Hi’.”

“Yeah.” Maria dragged out the word. “I’m sorry. I know you wanted some time away from work to be with the kid, but we’ve got a couple of issues with some orders that need to go through early tomorrow…” The woman trailed off apologetically and Mel shook her head in amusement.

“Let me guess, you need Phil or I to sign off on them?”

“I’m _so sorry_ , Mel.” Maria apologised again. “I know you both wanted to work from home until the kid got settled in, but I promise this will take five minutes, tops.” Maria prattled guiltily, making Mel laugh.

“Calm down. It’s fine. We’re at the mall, we’ll come by afterwards.”

“You sure? How’s it going, anyway?” Her friend asked.

“Maria,” Mel smiled to herself, “she’s incredible.”

“The kid? What’s her name?”

“Skye. And I’m telling you, Maria, she’s just amazing.”

Mel heard her laugh on the other end of the phone. “Sounds like you’re smitten with that kid, Mel. I can’t wait to meet the munchkin.”

“You’ll love her, too.” Mel smiled. Maria would. Maria generally wasn’t a ‘kid’ person. She taught kickboxing classes at the gym along with a handful of other classes, but avoided teaching kids at all costs. Despite this, Mel _knew_ Maria would appreciate Skye’s sass and wicked sense of humour. Plus, no matter what Maria claimed, they all knew she was a sucker for the cute kids, and if Skye was one thing, she was damn cute.

“Aw crap.” Maria mumbled. “Mel I gotta, go. Stark’s just walked in and I’m already seconds from punching him.”

 _“Hey!”_ Mel heard Tony shout in the background, and laughed. The billionaire often frequented the gym, Mel suspected, only to irritate her staff.

“Okay, Maria. I’ll see you later.” Mel laughed, shaking her head.

As she ended the call, the back door of the car opened and Mel turned just in time to see Skye launch herself into her car seat, grinning madly.

“Hi!” She smiled brightly, and Mel smirked at the toys under each of Skye’s arms.

“You look like you got some new friends there.” Mel smiled.

Skye blushed. “They’re not _both_ mine, though.”

“But you know it would be okay if they were, right?” Phil said, buckling Skye’s belt. “I wanted to buy you the toys, you don’t need to feel guilty.”

“Kay.”

“So, are you going to introduce me to your new friends?” Mel asked, nodding at the bear and the spider. She smiled. “Is that bear wearing a Captain America outfit?”

Skye nodded enthusiastically. “He’s a polar bear.”

“Mr. Snow.” Phil said, getting in the drivers side. He frowned at Mel. “What, were you raised in a barn? Feet off the dash.” Mel rolled her eyes, but put her feet down. “Honestly, Mel. You’re worse than the kids. Isn’t she, Skye?”

Skye shrugged and went back to doting on Mr. Snow, stroking the fur of his paw.

“Who’s the spider, then, baby?” Mel asked.

“She’s a present for, Natasha.” Skye smiled. “Her name is Charlotte. Like in the story book.”

Melinda looked to Phil, but continued speaking to Skye. “You got Nat a gift?”

“Yeah. It’s a coming home present, so she’ll like me.”

“Oh, baby.” Mel’s heart broke. “Nat’s gonna love you no mater what. You don’t need to get her a gift for her to love you.”

“But, do you think she’ll like her?” Skye fiddled with a purple foot. “Because she’s got a pet spider.”

“I think that she will be very grateful that you got her a gift, and I know she’ll love Charlotte the spider.” Mel said. “Right, Phil?”

“Right.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “You’re very generous, Skye.”

Skye made a face. “But _you_ paid for it.”

“Not the point.” He smirked. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Skye nuzzled her face into the fur of Charlotte the spider. “Yeah.” She murmured into the toy. “And I’ll take care of Charlotte until Natasha gets here.”

Mel turned back to the front window and tapped Phil on the shoulder. “Gym.” She said. “There’s a shipping issue. Needs one of our Hancocks on it. Maria called.”

“I swear to God, if neither one of us are there for any longer than a day, the place starts falling apart.” He said, though he was smiling.

“Mm. Maria was ready to kill Stark by the sounds of things. But she’s excited to meet, Skye.” Mel turned in her seat. “We’re going to the gym, Skye.”

Skye smiled. “What you own?” Mel nodded. “Can I see the trampolines?”

“Sure thing, baby.” Melinda laughed. She loved children’s priorities. “You can bounce while Phil and I do boss stuff.”

“’Cos you’re the bosses, like it says on your bedroom door.” Skye smiled but then a little crinkle appeared on her forehead. “Are you good bosses, or mean bosses?”

“Oh,” Phil laughed, “we are _the best_ bosses. We even give our employees dental.”

“I don’t know what that is…”

Mel smirked. “Just know that in adult world, it’s pretty awesome.”

“Kay.” Skye leaned her head to one side, watching out the window of the car. Her fingers ran through the fur of Mr. Snow as her thumb crept up to her mouth. “I’m glad you’re nice.”

…

Skye had never been to a gym before, or at least as far as she could remember, but even with nothing to compare it to, the Coulson’s gym was _massive_. They pulled up outside of the building, parking right outside the front door. Skye craned her head to look out of the front window at the stream of people coming and going from the building.

Melinda opened the car door for Skye and helped her out of the vehicle. She thought she or Phil might make her leave Mr. Snow and Charlotte in the car, but neither said anything about the toys. “We’re going to see a few of our friends, okay?”

“Kay.” Skye hugged Mr. Snow and Charlotte closer to her chest, just to make sure they wouldn’t get scared when she took them inside.

“And then maybe you can have some time on the trampoline?” Phil smiled.

That sounded pretty awesome to Skye. Trampolines, in her experience, were always fun, but the idea that Mel and Phil were going to leave her on her own whilst they did ‘boss stuff’ was a little scary. Mr. Snow and Charlotte didn’t want Mel and Phil to leave them alone.

“I wanna stay with you.” Skye said. It was difficult to manoeuvre both toys into one arm, but she managed it, just so she could cling onto Melinda’s hand. “I’ll stay with you.”

Melinda stroked the back of Skye’s hand with her thumb. “Maybe you and I could go bouncing, and leave Phil to do the boring things. That sound a little better?”

It did. Much better. And Skye nodded enthusiastically in reply.

They entered the gym, and immediately Skye felt herself feeling a little anxious. Mr. Snow and Charlotte felt scared, too, so Skye cuddled closer to Melinda, just to make sure they felt better. There were lots of people around. Some kids, too, but mostly adults, _really_ big adults. 

Phil jogged over to a blonde man who Skye thought was pretty scary looking. He was huge. His arms were bigger than her head and even though he was laughing with Phil, the man was still intimidating.

“You okay, baby?” Mel asked, squeezing her hand.

“Mr. Snow and Charlotte are scared.” Skye said, because maybe Mel would know how to make them feel better.

“Oh no. What are they frightened of?”

“Just…” She eyed the big man talking with Phil. “Some of the people are scary.”

Mel crouched down. “Hmm. How could we make them feel better?”

Skye considered this. Mr. Snow was brave because he was Captain America, and Charlotte was a brave spider because she belonged to Natasha, but it was still scary. “Maybe they need cuddles?”

“I think we can do cuddles.” Melinda smiled and picked up Skye.

It took a little shifting to get Skye and both toys comfortably on Melinda’s hip, but once they were situated, Skye certainly felt better. And so did Mr. Snow and Charlotte.

“Are they feeling a little better?” Mel asked, and kissed Skye’s cheek.

“Yes. But Charlotte and Mr. Snow need kisses, too.”

“Kisses for Mr. Snow.” Mel said, and kissed the polar bear. “Kisses for Charlotte.” And kissed the Spider. “ _And_ kisses for Skye.” Mel kissed Skye again.

“They feel better now.” Skye said. Melinda was smiling at her as she walked them over to the front desk, but Skye didn’t want her to feel left out. “But you gotta have kisses, too.”

“And who will give me kisses?” Mel said.

“Me.”

“Oh, well that’s lovely.” Mel grinned in a way that made Skye feel happy. She decided, right there, that she would work hard everyday to make sure she made Melinda smile like that.

Starting with, giving her kisses.

“Cheek kisses.” Skye said, and kissed each of Melinda’s cheeks. “And nose kiss.” She pecked Mel’s nose, giggling softly when the woman scrunched it up.

“Mel!” Someone called from behind them.

Skye turned as Mel did, to see a dark-haired woman, dressed in sporting clothes, jogging over to them.

“Skye, this is my best friend, Maria.” Mel introduced as the woman approached. “She works here at the gym.”

Mr. Snow and Charlotte were feeling a little shy, so Skye cuddled into Melinda a bit more, but smiled at Maria. Maria smiled back and gave her a little wave.

“Hey there, Skye. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Maria said.

Skye frowned. “You have?” She asked in a very small voice, because Mr. Snow was still being shy.

Maria paused, half way through tying up her hair. “Well,” she dragged out the word, “actually no. That’s a lie. Mel told me like three sentences about you on the phone, but there were _awesome_ sentences.”

Skye laughed. She liked Maria. Maria was funny.

“ _Anyway,_ ” She continued, “I know I promised I wouldn’t keep you long so I gave Phil all the shipping stuff to sign. He’s taking it to the offices with Steve. I told them to get a move on but Stark is hovering up there for unknown reasons so they could be up there for hours.” Maria rolled her eyes.

“Actually, he can take his time.” Mel said. “Skye and I are going to do some trampolining. Aren’t we?” She bounced Skye on her hip.

“Uh-huh.” Skye said. “You could come, too, Maria.” She added. Skye didn’t want Maria to be lonely. She _was_ Melinda’s best friend, after all.

Maria grinned. “Oh, I’d love to!” She turned to Mel as they began walking away from the front desk. “You were right, Mel. I do like this kid.”

Melinda pecked Skye’s forehead. “Told you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check out [SmudgeQueen!](http://smudgequeenblr.tumblr.com/post/110851828060/inspired-by-panicmoon15s-fanfiction) You rock!


	7. Skye's Best Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the reviews and kind words. They mean a lot.

This would be Skye’s fourth school. She had moved more than that, but when returning to St. Agnes’, Skye had always gone back to same school, the same as all the other kids at the orphanage because it was only down the street and they could all walk there. That school sucked. Her teacher was mean and the other kids were mean, and they didn’t have many soccer balls so Skye never got a turn at kicking.

Skye was in second grade. Technically, she was old enough to be in third grade, but after the summer was over and she returned to her old school and to the orphanage, it had apparently been decided by someone high-up that Skye go back and repeat the second grade. Something to do with her “ _behavioural issues and learning difficulties”._ That meant she was ‘bad and stupid’. Of course this had meant since the end of August, Skye had been forced to sit in a classroom five days a week with a teacher she hated, and kids who teased her for being held back.

Skye _hated_ school.

“Why do I have to go to school?” She asked.

“Because it’s the law.” Phil answered. “You have to.”

“How comes I can’t go into the third grade class?” Skye asked from the back of the car as Phil drove them to the school.

“Well,” he smiled at her via the rear-view mirror, “you were in second grade in your other school, so we thought it would be best if you went into second grade in this school.”

She hugged Mr. Snow to her chest, and rubbed one of Charlotte’s purple feet on her nose until the skin tingled. “I don’t wanna go to school.”

Mel was sat in the back with her and she kept stroking Mr. Snow’s fur because Skye had told her how he sometimes got nervous.

“Why don’t you want to go to school?” Mel asked.

Skye shrugged. “’Cos.”

“’Cos’ is not an answer.”

“Teachers are mean.” Skye huffed. She knew that wasn’t entirely true. Her teacher who had given her the Euro coin had been nice, and the teaching assistant at her last school who came in once a week to help her read was nice, but the idea of a new school with a new teacher and new people was just scary. “I don’t wanna go.”

Mel stroked Skye’s cheek instead of Mr. Snow’s fur. It felt nice and Skye closed her eyes for a second. “I promise, your new teacher is _not_ going to be mean, okay?”

“You _sure?”_

“I’m very sure. Pepper-,”

“Miss Potts.” Phil corrected.

Mel rolled her eyes. “Right, _Miss Potts_ is a very good teacher. And she’s never mean to those who don’t deserve it.”

That all sounded pretty good to Skye. And Mel and Phil had never lied to her yet, so there was no reason to think she shouldn’t believe them, but time would only tell.

“How comes you know my teacher, again?”

“Miss Potts used to teach at our gym.” Phil said.

“Oh yeah.” Skye remembered. “Yoga.” She sat quietly for a minute, watching the trees out of the window. “What’s yoga?”

Phil laughed. “It’s kind of like stretching, or like, super slow dancing.”

Skye grimaced. That sounded super boring, she would much rather go on the trampolines with Mel and Maria. That was way more fun than _stretching_ would have been.

Skye looked back out of the window as Phil pulled into the school’s parking lot. It was almost empty, just a few other cars parked near the entrance to the school, but no other kids around at the early hour. The bubbles Skye felt in her tummy started to get stronger when Phil turned off the engine and Mel unbuckled her seatbelt.

“You’re going to have to leave Mr. Snow and Charlotte in the car.” Phil said with an apologetic smile. “They’ll still be here when we pick you up.”

Skye knew that was coming. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to take them into the school with her, but she had hoped. Mr. Snow didn’t like being left all on his own. Even when he was wearing his Captain America costume, he still felt worried. Charlotte was maybe a bit braver because she was Natasha’s spider.

“Is Natasha brave?” Skye asked, stroking Charlotte’s glittery fur.

Mel looked over at Phil, then back to Skye. She had a little frown on her face but she didn’t seem mad, just confused.

“You want to know if Natasha’s brave?” Mel said.

“Yes.”

Mel smiled. “Natasha, well, she’s very brave. _Very_ brave.”

That was good, because that meant Charlotte was brave too, and she could take care of Mr. Snow when Skye wasn’t there. They’d look after each other.

Skye got out of her car seat and arranged Mr. Snow and Charlotte on it so that they were hugging each other, the seatbelt fastened over them to keep them safe. She kissed each of them in turn and told them to make good choices, just in case they forgot, like she sometimes did. Sometimes Skye only remembered to be good after doing something bad, so she knew it was important to remind them.

“Let’s go.” Skye said, and picked up her new backpack Phil and Mel had bought her yesterday, put in on her shoulder and walked up to the school bravely. Skye could be brave.

She turned to see Mel and Phil watching her from the car. “You guys coming? I gotta meet my teacher, you know.”

…

Something about learning that Nat was brave, had apparently given little Skye an enormous amount of courage, and she had abandoned Phil and Mel to march up the school on her own. She shouted after them when they both failed to immediately follow.

“We’re coming, we’re coming.” Phil called back, then turned to Mel. “What just happened?”

She laced her fingers with his and they followed Skye to the entrance. “I have no idea.” She answered. “We haven’t had a little one in a while and my child-logic appears to be a little rusty.”

“I don’t think much logic may apply to Skye.” Phil smirked as they caught up her. “You’re unique, huh?” He patted Skye’s hair.

“What’s that mean?”

Mel reached her other hand out and Skye took it, leaning into her side as the doors were opened for them. “It means your special.”

Skye allowed herself to be led into the school, eyes immediately tracking the walls and all of the student’s work displayed to them. “Am I special?” She asked.

“Baby,” Mel squeezed her hand, “you’re very special. And don’t you ever forget that, okay?”

“’Kay.” Skye said quietly, although Mel suspected she was only half listening. Skye’s grip on her fingers had tightened as they approached Pepper’s classroom. “Is that my teacher?”

Pepper Potts stood smiling at the entrance to her classroom, looking about as threatening as a teddy bear in footie pyjamas, but Skye still pressed herself so far into Mel’s side that she was almost hidden behind her. The previous gusto she had gained seemingly out of nowhere had apparently dissipated, and at the frightened look on her little girl’s face, all Mel really wanted to do was to pick her up and take her home. But that wouldn’t do well for anyone. Skye needed to go to school, even if her little face was breaking Melinda’s heart.

“Hi, there.” Pepper smiled at Skye, crouching down beside her. “My name is Miss Potts, I’m your new teacher.”

“Yeah, I know.” Skye mumbled into Mel’s side.

Pepper’s smile never wavered, and the most shocking thing Melinda found about Pepper, something she had noticed from the very first day she had met the young woman almost seven years ago, was that each and every Pepper Potts smile was genuine. The woman had the patience of a saint (though being in a relationship with the worlds most infuriating man probably required that), which is why she was the perfect teacher for Skye. Maybe the perfect teacher for most other kids, too. It was the same reason Melinda had eagerly written a letter of recommendation for Pepper and Tony to foster when they had asked.

“It’s so lovely to see you guys.” Pepper grinned at Phil and Mel. She waved her hand towards the classroom. “Come on in, we’ve got a half hour before the rest of the kids start getting here.”

There were three chairs set out in front of Pepper’s desk. Phil sat in one, and Melinda intended to sit in the one furthest away from him to allow Skye the middle chair, but the little girl was still glued to her side, so Mel sat in the middle seat and pulled Skye onto her lap instead. Skye held both of Mel’s hands around her waist.

“How about we get the boring stuff out of the way?” Pepper asked, the question directed at Skye, although the little girl failed to answer.

“Sure thing, Pep.” Phil said.

“Okay, I got a letter of record from Skye’s previous teacher.” She gave Mel a wary look. “It’s not particularly…pleasant.” She settled on.

“She didn’t like me.” Skye mumbled.

Either Pepper didn’t hear her or simply chose not to acknowledge the comment. “I’d prefer not to discuss the specifics.” She frowned at the paper in front of her. “I’ll give you a copy when you leave, but generally, there’s a couple of things I’d like to discuss.”

“Go ahead.” Phil said.

“Now, Skye’s behaviour at school,” Pepper began and Melinda couldn’t miss the way Skye tensed on her lap. “It seems to have reached a point where it has become a concern. You’ve a little red flag on your report here, Skye.”

“I was bad at school.” Skye said.

“I see. Do you think we can maybe work on that? You can try and be good in the classroom, here?”

Skye nodded.

“Good. So next port of call is Skye’s grades.” Pepper smiled. “I don’t want to discuss too much today, just that I think getting Skye some extra help in the classroom might be a good idea.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Mel said. She trusted Pepper’s judgement. Bobbi and Natasha had both needed a little help at school (okay, a lot of help in Nat’s case) but they had both been much older than Skye. Even in her and Phil’s avid experience with fostering kids, Skye was one of the youngest, and Mel still felt a little in over her head sometimes.

“Fantastic. So, Skye, how are you feeling?” Pepper asked.

“’M’okay, I guess.” She said.

“Yeah? Because I know starting a new school can be scary. Are you feeling a bit scared?”

Skye leaped off Melinda’s lap and stood in front of Pepper’s desk with folded arms. The gusto was back.

“Miss Potts,” Skye addressed, “I’m not scared of _anything_.”

Pepper looked as shocked as Melinda felt at Skye’s sudden change of pace, but didn’t let it affect her. “Wow, that’s impressive. I thought everyone was scared of _something_.”

“Not me. I’m not scared.” Skye dumped herself into the empty seat.

“Are you maybe a tiny bit nervous about starting a new school, making new friends?” Pepper smiled again. “Because that would be okay.”

“No.” Skye’s expression changed to one of anger. “No!”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Mel said, putting a hand on Skye’s shoulder. Skye dropped her head onto her hand, trapping it there. “You want to tell Miss Potts about who’s coming to visit soon?” Skye’s expression softened, the anger ebbing away with the distraction of Mel’s question.

“Natasha’s comin’ home.” Skye said. She freed Mel’s hand but held it in her lap instead.

“She is?” Pepper grinned at Phil and Mel. “When? Oh, I’d love to see her.”

“Friday.” Phil answered. “She’s coming down with Clint for a week.”

“Are you excited, Skye?” Pepper asked.

Skye frowned and cocked her head. “I think so. Maybe.” She looked to Melinda. “I don’t wanna go to school. Please, I wanna go home.” She sniffed. “Can we go home, please?”

God, if she could only wrap this baby girl up in cotton wool and keep her safe and happy in their home, she would do it. She knew Phil would, too, in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t how kids healed. That wasn’t how you helped put these kids back together. It had broken Mel’s heart when Bobbi had gone to school for weeks with speaking a word to anyone there, but it had worked out in the end, she had made friends and gone off to college and been happy. And it had broken her heart when she’d had to pick Natasha up from school every time she got into a fight, and had begged Mel not to make her go back, but then she had met Clint and look at Nat now. Both of her older girls had been in Skye’s position but they were beautiful, smart, caring young women now, and Melinda couldn’t be prouder of them.

Skye’s bottom lip was wobbling and her eyes were wet, and it took all of the inner strength Melinda could muster to kneel in front of her and break her heart.

“I’m so sorry, baby, but you need to stay at school.” Mel said. “I know it’s scary-,”

“M’not scared.”

“-and I know you didn’t used to like school, but Miss Potts is going to take care of you. And Phil and I will come pick you up this afternoon and take you home, okay?”

Skye wasn’t quite crying, but Mel could tell she was only _just_ holding it together, perhaps because Pepper was there in the room. She couldn’t just take her home and hide Skye from the world, but there was still fifteen minutes until school started, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to look after her little girl until then.

“Come here, baby.” Mel held her arms out and Skye fell into them, allowing herself to be picked up, wrapping her legs around Mel’s waist. Melinda couldn’t see it, but she could hear the sound of Skye’s thumb moving in her mouth, covered by a curtain of her dark hair so Phil and Pepper would be non the wiser.

A boy peeked his head around the door and smiled at Pepper. “Can I come in yet?” He asked, eyeing Mel and Phil.

“Go play in the gym for a little longer, okay?” Pepper said and he nodded and ran off. “How about we have a little tour?” Pepper asked. “So Skye knows where everything is.”

…

Mel and Phil left her in the classroom with Miss Potts when the school bell rang. Skye didn’t want them to leave her. She didn’t want to be left all on her own at school, but Melinda promised they would come back and get her this afternoon, and she had given Skye a really, _really_ good hug that kind of made Skye want to cry. But she didn’t, because Skye could be brave, just like Natasha and Charlotte.

“So this is where you’re going to sit, Skye.” Miss Potts said.

The seat was pretty close to Miss Potts’ desk but wasn’t on the front row of chairs. It was on the end of a row of desks, and she could see her cubby and hook on the other side of the classroom, so that her coat and backpack were in sight. That was good. Even though she had left all of her special things at home, because Phil said the house was much safer for them than school, Skye still wanted to be able to see her stuff.

“Why don’t you put your name on the front of this workbook?” Miss Potts gave her a book and Skye was maybe a little excited to get to use her new pens in her new pencil case.

She wanted to make her name neat on the front of the book, so that it would look nice when Miss Potts saw it, so Skye spent extra time joining up the ‘y’ and the ‘e’ even though that was sometimes what she found the hardest.

“You gotta put your last name on, too.”

Skye jumped. She hadn’t felt anyone approach her, but a boy had sat down in the seat next to her, leaning over to see what she was writing on her book. He pointed at her name.

“Skye?” He said. “Is that your name?”

“Um,” Skye hesitated. The boy was pretty big, much bigger than her, and the room was getting noisy as more kids arrived and sat down. A couple of them were staring at her. “Yes. I’m Skye.”

The boy smiled at her. “Hello, Skye. I’m Grant Ward. I saw you this morning with your parents, and you need to put your last name on your book, too.”

“Oh.” Skye looked down at her book and felt her cheeks heating up. “I, um, I don’t have one. Just Skye.”

Grant Ward looked at her strangely and sat back in his seat. “How come?”

Skye wasn’t sure how to explain it. This would be her first new school where she was entering as _Skye_ and not _Mary Sue Poots_. It was hard to explain. “I don’t know.”

“What’s your Mom and Dad’s last name?” He asked.

She _really_ didn’t want the kids to know she was an orphan, and a few more had turned around in their seats to listen in on her and Grant’s conversation. “Um,” Skye panicked, “It’s ‘Coulson’.” She said without thinking.

“So you’re name is ‘Skye Coulson’. You should put that on your book.” Grant said.

He was watching her expectantly, so Skye leaned over her book and added ‘Coulson’ to her name. Part of her felt a little guilty for not even asking Phil or Mel to borrow their last name, the other part of Skye felt really good about it. Skye Coulson had a nice ring to it.

“Okay, class.” Miss Potts called, getting their attention.

Skye put down her pen to listen to Miss Potts properly.

“Now it’s a new week, and a new start. So what will we make sure to do all week?”

“ _Do our best.”_ The rest of the class said in chorus. Skye assumed that this was a regular thing.

“Right.” Miss Potts smiled. “And this week is a very special week because we have a new student joining us.”

Skye _really_ felt her cheeks getting hot. Grant Ward turned to look at her, smiling in a friendly way, but it meant that all of the other students turned in their seats to look at her, too. She had had a lot of ‘first days’, but this awkward introduction was something Skye had never managed to get used to.

“This is Skye. She’s joining our school because she recently moved house, so can we all be kind and welcoming to her?”

Really, Skye was just glad Miss Potts hadn’t mentioned anything about her being fostered; that was usually the first line out of teacher’s mouths. Maybe it was because she was friends with Mel and Phil.

“Right, now.” Miss Potts moved over to the board. “This week our special topic is going to be ‘the World’. Who can tell me the name of a different country? Hands up.”

The class put their hands up and shouted out names of countries, which Miss Potts labelled on the big map she had on her wall. Skye had been preparing herself for the ‘tell the class a bit about you’ part of the day, but it never came.

Miss Potts didn’t pick on her to speak when she didn’t want to, and she didn’t make her read from the board like her old teacher had. They learned some words from different languages, and Miss Potts asked for volunteers to say them out loud to the rest of the class, and Skye _almost_ put her hand up to say “Bonjour” because she already knew that word from one of her old schools, but then she got a little worried and just stayed quiet. Skye even got to use her new coloured pens to colour in some flags on a worksheet Miss Potts gave them.

“How come you know the French flag without the help sheet?” Grant Ward asked her. He was colouring in his flags meticulously, keeping in the lines and taking much longer than Skye’s half-hearted scribbles.

“I learned about France in one of my old schools.” Skye said.

“Oh. I though you might be French.” Grant said.

“I’m not French.”

“Well, I know that now.” Grant grinned at her. “See, we’re learning about each other. Making friends.”

Skye frowned at him. That was _not_ the feeling she had been getting from the conversation. “We’re friends?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

And that was how Skye made her first friend at her new school. Simple as that. Well, Skye had to admit, she didn’t really have much going on in the process, Grant mostly did the work, but it was nice to have someone to talk to when recess rolled around.

“How is it going, Skye?” Miss Potts asked her as they filed out into the playground.

“Good.”

Grant Ward stood next to her. Standing up he was even bigger than Skye had first thought. He was easily the tallest in the class, almost up to Miss Potts’ shoulders.

“I see you made a friend.” She smiled at Grant and he grinned back. “Are you going to make sure Skye’s okay, Grant?”

“Yep. And I’m gonna make sure everyone’s nice to her.”

“That’s very kind of you.” She turned to Skye. “Grant knows how it is to come to a new class, don’t you?”

Grant looked a little sad for a second, and Skye felt mad that Miss Potts had done that, but he smiled again really quickly. “Come on, Skye, let’s go outside. Bye, Pep- Miss Potts.”

They playground at Skye’s new school was way better than the one at her old one. Grant led her over to the jungle gym, where lots of the kids in her class were playing.

“I like climbing stuff.” He said. “At home, I climb the trees in the back yard, and I’ve only fell out of ‘em like, four or five times.”

“Cool.” Skye said. “I like climbing, too. And I like jumping out of things.” She thought back to her pretend parachuting off the top of the bunk beds at St. Agnes’s. “I like to pretend I’m jumping out of a plane.”

“That’s awesome.” Grant jumped and grabbed onto the monkey bars. “You’re like a spy. Agent Skye.”

Skye grinned. “Yeah. And you can be Agent Ward.”

“We can be a team of spies who jump out of planes and save the world.” Grant dropped down onto the chipped bark. “Will you be my best friend, Skye?”

Skye had never had a best friend before, but Agent Ward seemed to be a good friend to make, and if they were going to be partners on their spy team, they should be best friends.

“Okay. I’ll be your best friend.”

“Great! Now, let’s play tag. Tag!” Ward tapped her shoulder, a lot more gently than Skye had braced for, and ran away.

She raced after her new best friend.

…

“I’m going to have an aneurism.” Mel said, entering Phil’s office without knocking. She waved the letter from Skye’s old teacher in hand. “And I’m also going to kill this bitch for bad-mouthing my child.”

He had also read the letter. It had been less than complimentary.

Phil looked over to her from his computer with an amused smirk. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I am kind of loving that for once you’re the one freaking out, and I’m the calm one.”

She glared at him and came fully into the room, closing the door behind her so the other employees wouldn’t simply walk in. “I’m not _freaking out_.” She crumpled the letter and threw it behind the office couch.

“You so are.” Phil said, spinning his chair around to face her. “C’mere.” He held his arms out and Mel walked over to him and dropped down onto her husband’s lap. He nuzzled her cheek as her arms went around him. “You’re freaking out, and I totally get why, and I think that it is the most precious thing.”

“You’re making me sound like I’m going soft.”

“Oh, please. You went soft the day the first kid came to stay and there was no going back once Bobbi came into the picture.” Phil smiled as he thought back to those days so long ago when they hadn’t even considered looking after kids for any longer than a few weeks at a time. Then Bobbi came along and stole their hearts and that was that.

“God, I miss her.” Mel mumbled.

“Skye?”

She snorted. “Well yeah, but I was talking about Bobbi.” Mel cuddled more into his side. “I swear next time she comes home I’m never letting her leave the country again.”

“That means Hunter will have to stay, too.” Phil shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure how long I can put up with my daughter’s boyfriend for.”

“You managed to live with Clint for over a year.”

Phil pulled away to frown at his wife. “To be fair, I had no idea that he and Nat were anything more then best friends for like six months of that.”

“That’s your problem.” She smirked. “Sometimes you’re not very observant.”

“You didn’t say anything and you _knew_ they were…” Phil trailed off and used a vague hand gesture to illustrate his point.

“Having sex.” Mel supplied.

“Oh dear god, Melinda! _Stop!”_ Phil shuddered. No. He still stood by the notion that both Nat and Bobbi were completely celibate. “No. No.”

“They’re growing up, Phil. You can’t keep your head in the sand forever.”

“Yes I can. So far it’s going really great.”

Mel laughed but kissed him gently. “You’re their daddy, I guess it’s okay for you to pretend they’re still just kids.”

Phil kissed her again. “It’s frightening how quickly our kids have grown up.”

“I know. We’re so old. Skye has to stay a baby forever.” Mel sniggered to herself, but then her expression turned serious. “She’ll be okay, right?”

“At school? I’m sure she will. Pepper would let us know if things weren’t going well.” Phil assured her.

There was a knock at Phil’s door and Antoine Triplett walked in with a file and a frown on his face.

“Hey, Phil, can you sign-oh God.” He covered his eyes with the file and stumbled back against the door frame. “Ew, you guys shouldn’t be doing _that_ at work.”

Phil couldn’t help himself. He laughed into Mel’s shoulder, and could feel the way she laughed with him, still sitting on his lap.

“Calm down, Trip. We’re only hugging.” He smiled.

Trip still held the file over his face. “Promise that if I move this file, you’re not going to be canoodling?”

Melinda slid off Phil’s lap and moved over to the couch. “Promise. Now what’s up?”

Trip slowly lowered the file, the expression on his face relaxing when he saw the two of them were no longer ‘canoodling’.

“I just came to see if you could sign this.” Trip said. “Either of you, really.”

Phil held his hand out for the file and Trip passed it over to him. “I’ll do it.” He signed the top document and turned back to see Trip sitting down by Melinda, giving her a hug.

“Hi, Mel.” Trip greeted. “Where’s the new little one? Maria told me all about her. Apparently she’s pretty cute.”

“She is.” Mel turned to Trip and patted his cheek. “Skye even gives little you a run for your money. And you were pretty damn cute.”

“I’m twenty seven, Mel, don’t baby me.” Trip pouted. “And I think I’m still pretty cute.” He beamed.

“And so modest, too.” Phil laughed.

Trip shot him an air gun. “You got it, Phil. I’m practically perfect in every way.” He laughed and stood up, hand out for the folder.

Phil handed it back to him, but pulled it away at the last second. “In all seriousness-,”

“Oh dear.” Trip said with a look to Mel. “Is he getting sentimental again?”

Mel smiled. “It’s about time, really. I’ve spent the past few days being the soft one apparently. He’s probably been saving it all up to gush over you.”

“Shut up and let me tell my boy how proud I am of him.” Phil huffed and stood before Trip. “I just want you to know that Mel and I are _so_ proud of all you’ve done.”

“Don’t make me cry, Phil.” Trip said.

“We love you so much, Trip and I know I tell you this often, but I just want you to know that I didn’t employ you because of who you are to us-,”

“Phil-,”

“-I want you working for me because you’re the best at what you do. Whether it’s up here in administration or down in the gym. Trip, you’re one of the best workers we’ve ever had.”

Trip looked down. “Thank you. I’m…I just…thanks.” He looked to Mel. “Both of you.”

Mel stood and pulled Trip into a hug. “Thank _you._ Before you stayed with us, Phil and I were just kids who wanted to help kids. You really showed us how to be parents.”

“For what’s it’s worth,” Trip smiled at both of them, “you’re awesome parents.”

“Oh, you’re too kind.” Phil pulled him into a hug and kissed him on the cheek, more because he knew Trip hated it. The young man wiped off his cheek, but he was grinning.

“So, when am I gonna get to meet Skye?”

“Soon.” Mel said. “Nat’s coming home on Friday.”

Trip smiled and nodded. “Maria said. You want Skye to meet Nat first?” He guessed.

It had been something he and Mel had discussed when Skye was in bed. How best to introduce her to their miss-match family, and it seemed logical with Skye’s interest in Nat after buying her Charlotte the spider, that they got her comfortable with her older sister, before introducing her to Trip and the others.

“I’m not going to stop you from meeting her, Trip.” Mel said. “I just think if she gets to know Tasha first, the rest might go smoother?” It came out as a question and Phil found himself shrugging in response, without an answer. It was Trip who gave the best assurance.

Trip gave Mel a one armed hug and took the file from Phil with the other. He walked over to the door. “Maria said she was little shy, but you two are the best. I’m positive she’ll be fine.” He grinned. “Better than fine. Great. Awesome. Cool.” Trip continued listing positive adjectives as he left the room and made his way down the hall.

Phil looked back to Melinda. She was smiling in the direction of Trip’s exit.

“I love him.” She said. “If I didn’t already have a son, I’d want Trip to be my son.”

Phil cocked an eyebrow at her. “You _don’t_ already have a son.”

She looked at him like he was an idiot. “Clint.”

“You know Clint isn’t our son, right?” Phil smirked. This was discussion they had often. One of those little bickers they only had in order to irritate and amuse each other.

“Clint is practically my son.” Mel said, crossing her legs and leaning back on the couch. “And anyway,” she picked hat her fingernails with a smirk, “he’ll be our son-in-law one day, I guarantee it.”

Phil groaned. “Stop, Mel.”

“You better get used to the idea sooner rather than later.”

“She’s nineteen, Mel, she’s not getting married.”

“Look at us.”

“Nat’s not us.”

“Maybe not.” Melinda smiled. “But your eldest daughter is twenty-five and-,”

Phil rubbed his face. “I refuse to believe that any of my children will be getting married any time soon. This is the end of the conversation.”

Melinda huffed a little laugher. “Okay. I’ll stop teasing you.” She stood and walked back over to him now that Trip was gone, settling on his lap. Mel kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Phil kissed her nose. “Thank you for marrying me.”

She smirked. “I was a naïve eighteen year old when I married you. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

“Hmm. You act like I tricked you into marrying me.”

Melinda smiled. “My mother still thinks you did.”

“It’s been twenty-five years.” Phil huffed. “You’d think she would like me by now.”

“She likes you plenty.” Mel assured him. “She’s just not very good at showing it.”

“You can say that again.”

“Hey.” Mel warned. “That’s my mother. Be nice, Philip.”

He laughed and tickled her sides.

…

Skye supposed school wasn’t _so_ bad. Before home time, Miss Potts told them to get all of their stuff, put on their coats and come and sit on the story carpet, and she would read from their new book for the last ten minutes of the day. Grant had explained that when they started a new topic, Miss Potts would choose a new book and she would read it before they left each day. That was cool. Skye’s old teacher made all the other kids read out in front of the class, and she always made Skye feel bad because some of the words were hard. Miss Potts didn’t do that.

She had done some reading after lunch with Miss Potts while the rest of the class had some free time, but it was okay because she didn’t have to do it in front of anyone except Miss Potts, and she wasn’t the only one who had to do some one-on-one reading. Grant Ward’s turn was after her and he didn’t seem embarrassed about needing help to read, so Skye wasn’t either.

Ward patted the rug next to him, and Skye sat down in the space.

“Do you like stories?” He asked while Miss Potts helped some of the others with their jackets.

“Yeah. I like them, but I’m not very good at reading.” It seemed okay to tell Ward that because he was her best friend.

He nodded. “Yeah. Reading’s hard. I’m good at math.” He grinned. “Super good at math, but I’ve got dyslexia.”

Skye cocked her head. “What’s that?” It sounded like a disease. Grant didn’t seem sick, though.

“It just means sometimes words are hard. Y’know like reading and spelling and stuff.” He shrugged. “That’s kind of why I got held back.”

Skye’s eyes widened. “You got held back?”

“Yeah. This is my second time in Pep-Miss Potts’ class. At my old school they weren’t very good.” He explained and Skye nodded in understanding. “Miss Potts said that I got ‘swept under the rug’, whatever that means.”

Skye shrugged. She didn’t know either.

“But then I came to this school and I had Miss Potts to help me and I’m glad I got kept back because she’s the greatest teacher ever.” He looked over to Miss Potts with a smile. “She’s the best.”

“I’m supposed to be in the third grade. But I’m too stupid.” Skye said.

Grant frowned. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid.” He smiled brightly at her and flung an arm over her shoulders. “And anyway, I’m almost ten. I’m meant to be in fourth grade. Does that make _me_ stupid?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that.” Skye panicked. She was going to lose her only best friend ever.

Ward smiled again. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. But it just proves you’re not stupid, Skye Coulson.” He held out his fist to her and Skye grinned as she fist-bumped her best friend.

Miss Potts began telling the story of four children who sailed around the world. It was silly and wasn’t a _real_ story, but it reminded Skye of _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ and she liked that.

“Okay, kids, that’s all we have time for today.” There was a collective groan when Miss Potts had to stop reading part-way through. “We’ll read some more tomorrow if we have time. Okay?” The class agreed. “See you all tomorrow, guys.” She dismissed them, and the class raced out of the classroom door and into the playground.

A few of the kids shouted ‘bye’ to Skye as they passed. Skye didn’t know all of the kids’ names yet, so just called ‘bye’ back and followed Ward to the door. There were lots of people outside; kids, parents, teachers. The tightness in Skye’s tummy returned after it had dissipated for most of the day, and she stood shyly on the steps.

“Can you see your mom and dad?” He asked, looking around.

Skye couldn’t. Mel and Phil had promised to be there to pick her up when school ended, but she couldn’t see their faces in the mass of other parents and students.

Someone tapped on Skye’s shoulder, and she looked up to see Miss Potts smiling brightly at her. “Over there, honey.” She pointed towards the edge of the playground, and Skye grinned when she caught sight of Melinda and Phil walking over.

“You look happy.” Melinda said as she approached, and Skye skipped off the top step so that she could hug her. “Good day?” Mel kissed her head.

“Yeah. It was fun.” Skye pulled back and hugged Phil.

“Great.” He said. “I’m so glad.”

Skye took Mel’s hand.

“Skye did very well today.” Miss Potts said. “She was great, if a little quiet, but I think her new friend might remedy that if their recess games are anything to go by.”

“We played spies.” Grant stated proudly. Her looked to Skye. “Is this your mom and dad?”

Skye looked up at Mel and Phil. Phil was smiling and Mel was brushing back Skye’s hair as it blew into her face. She looked back at Ward. “Yeah. This is my mom and dad.”

Mel’s hand stilled on her head and the other gently squeezed her fingers.

“Hi, Skye’s mom and dad. I’m Skye’s best friend.” Grant grinned.

“Best friend?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, we decided that today because we’re gonna be spies, right Skye?”

“Yeah. Agent Skye and Agent Ward.”

“You’re Ward, then, I presume?” Mel asked.

Miss Potts put her hand on Grant’s shoulder. “This is Grant Ward.” She introduced with a grin. “I don’t do favourites-,”

“But if you did, I’d be it? Right?” He beamed.

Miss Potts rolled her eyes. “Something like that. Grant here has been spending too much time with Tony, and his cockiness is rubbing off on him, I think.”

Skye didn’t know who Tony was, but when she looked back up and Mel and Phil, they both had strange looks on their faces. Mel was smiling with one eyebrow up and Phil looked like he had just solved a really hard math problem.

“So _you’re_ the Grant I’ve been hearing so much about.” Phil smiled. “Tony’s told me all about you. I’m glad we can finally meet.”

Grant looked shocked. Skye was just confused. “You know Tony?”

“Are you kidding?” Phil laughed. “Stark Industries sponsors our gym. We get all our equipment from S.I.”

Grant looked to Miss Potts. “They own SHIELD gym?” He asked and she nodded.

“Who’s Tony?” Skye finally asked, when it became apparent that no one was going to tell her off the bat.

“Tony’s Pepper’s boyfriend. I mean, Miss Potts’ boyfriend.” Grant smiled up at her and she put and arm around his shoulders. “I live with them.”

Skye felt her mouth drop open. “No wonder she’s your favourite teacher.”

Ward shrugged and hugged Miss Potts. She kissed the side of his head and Skye leaned closer to Mel. “Pepper and Tony take care of me because my mom can’t anymore. But I like it here better anyway.”

Ward was her best friend, but when he said that, Skye knew that they would be best friends forever. “I like it here better, too.” She said. And maybe it would be okay to tell Ward about her life before Mel and Phil. It seemed like he might understand.

“Good.” Grant said, smiling. “I’m glad you like it here Agent Skye Coulson.”

“Thank you, Agent Grant Ward.”

Yeah. Skye liked it here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Stacy and Tayelor for your head canons. I'm in love with them and I'm so excited to read more. xxx


	8. Skye's Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading!

Melinda was waiting for the metaphorical other shoe to drop.

Things with Skye were going far too well, which she knew sounded ridiculous, and when she had voiced this fear to Maria, the woman had laughed in her face and told her to make the most of the proverbial honeymoon period. But it was difficult.

Skye had been living with them for almost a week, and although they’d had their bumps in the first few days, since starting school, the little girl had barely been a bother.

With both Bobbi and Nat, the first few weeks had been the hardest. Every single day had been a battle of two extremes; silence with Bobbi, and the _opposite_ with Nat. Melinda had needed to work constantly to gain their trust and get them to a healthy place. Bobbi refused to speak to anyone, and Nat, well the little English she _did_ speak was picked up in a crack den so it was less than helpful to anyone unless they wanted to be screamed at and verbally abused.

Melinda could do _difficult_. She could make things better.

Skye, though, things were going really very well. Their little girl was being anything _but_ difficult. She had her little mood swings and was fiercely protective and secretive about some of her ‘special things’ hidden in her bedroom (Melinda was determined to find out what they were without being a snoop), but really she seemed to be okay. It just all seemed too good to be true.

Mel said as much to Phil in the car after dropping Skye off at her fourth day of school with no problems. She had hugged them goodbye, kissed her toys, and ran off to join Grant Ward in the playground. That first little speed bump on her first day was long forgotten and Pepper assured them that every day that Skye was settling in to the school and making friends really well, that neither of them should be worried.

“I’m worried.” Mel said, ignoring Phil’s frown and putting her feet up on the dash anyway. “I just feel like something’s got to give, Phil.”

“She’s doing great.” Phil sighed, evidently having given up hope of ever getting his wife to stop treating the car like a lounge. “This is the best time we’ve ever had with a kid. I know Skye’s moods can sometimes be a little…sporadic,” Mel nodded in agreement and thought back to the few times Skye had gone from happy-go-lucky to moody and quiet in five seconds flat for no apparent reason. “But she’s doing great.” Phil said. “What’s there to worry about?”

Melinda sighed in frustration. “Everything. There’s _everything_ to worry about. You just don’t get it.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Please for the love of God explain it to me.” Phil said, pulling into the space at the front of the gym. He turned off the engine but made no move to leave the car.

Melinda blew some hair out of her eyes and kept them trained forward on the automatic doors of the entrance. Each time they opened for someone to enter or leave the building, she got a glimpse of Maria lounging by the front desk with Steve, laughing at something one of the receptionists was saying. They would all pretend to have been working as soon as she and Phil went inside. They may be their best friends, but she and Phil still paid their wages.

Mel could probably insist they talk about this later, perhaps in one of their offices, but she knew all too well the workload that would be thrown on both of them as soon as they entered through the doors. Their staff were the best, they only hired the best, but even then, being the boss meant being very involved and therefore very busy. It was rare they got more than five minutes to themselves in the gym. Stark was due to come in at some point in the day and coping with him was like a three man job and she’d probably get roped into it.

Melinda sighed and pulled her knees up to her chest. The motion reminded her of Bobbi when she was little, and a new wave of anxiety washed over her as she thought of her eldest all he way across the globe. “I could handle Trip.” Mel said. “He was ten and cried non–stop for days, but we helped him and then he was fine. No problems.”

Phil reached over and laced his hand with hers.

“And Bobbi. Twelve and tiny and so shy she wouldn’t even speak to usin the _house_. But we helped her and, God Phil, look at her now.” Melinda smiled to herself as she thought of her eldest little girl, not so little or quiet anymore. “And Natasha.”

Phil squeezed her hand and took a deep breath. “God, Natasha. Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Mel said. “She was, well…it took a while but we got there.”

“We did.” Phil agreed. “So why are you so concerned about Skye. She’s doing great.”

“Exactly.” Mel looked over to him with a sad smile. “It’s going too well, and you know just as well as I do that the other shoe will drop.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Mel. Skye just might not be as challenging as we were led to believe. It could be a good thing?” It came out as more of a question, and Mel wished she could agree.

“Even if only _half_ of the things in Skye’s file are true, we’re up for a difficult time.” She said. Phil nodded. “I think…” Mel looked back out of the window. “…I think that maybe our baby is going to be a slow burner. And we need to be prepared for her catching.”

Melinda gripped Phil’s hand and brought it up to her mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I’m scared I’m not going to be enough for her. And…and I _cannot_ fail her, Phil, I just can’t.”

Phil pulled his hand away from her and reached around to rub her neck gently. “Look at me.”

Mel looked up at her husband.

“Don’t you _dare_ ever think that you are not good enough for that child, or any of our children, okay?” He said, tone leaving no room for argument. “I know I’ve done good for those kids. For Bobbi and Tash and Clint and even Trip, but you’ve _changed their lives,_ Melinda.”

“Phil-,”

“No, Mel. Listen. I know how you’re feeling.” He sighed. “I won’t lie and try and tell you that it’s all going to be plain sailing from here on out. I can’t promise you that. Skye is a kid who has had more bad experiences than I’ve had hot meals, but I have every confidence in you, and you’re not alone in this.”

She shook her head. “You think too much of me, Philip.”

“No I don’t.” He said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I could never, ever have cared for the kids without you. Never. I can do stories, and I can hug away nightmares, but I can’t do that thing _you_ do. That’s special.”

Melinda frowned at him. She had absolutely no idea what the hell he was talking about. “You’re amazing with the kids, Phil. It was your idea to start taking them in.”

“But Mel,” He laughed, “how can you not see what _you_ do? You put these broken kids back together piece-by-piece. And sometimes I hand you the glue, or hold a couple of pieces until they’re dry, but you’re the sculptor.”

Mel snorted. “Nice metaphor, you idiot.” She made fun of him, but she was well aware that he knew what ‘idiot’ really meant.

“I love you, too.” Phil smiled, and tugged her forward to kiss her gently. “Please don’t worry about Skye.” He said, bumping her nose with his. “I’m worried too, honestly. But we’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Mel kissed his cheek.

“We can do this, together we can do this.” He smiled. “And lucky for Skye, she’s getting the two best big sisters in the business.”

Melinda laughed. “You’re not wrong, there.”

“Skye’s going to be okay. You believe me?”

“I believe you. And thank you for letting me have that mini-breakdown.” She laughed, composing herself enough to go to work. “I feel much better.” And she did. As always, her husband had managed to soothe her fears with a few kind words and some kisses. Phil may have thought that she had a gift with the kids, but he always had a special power when it came to making Melinda feel better.

“No problem.” Phil unbuckled his seatbelt. “You can repay the debt when it’s my turn to have the freak-out.”

“Give me the time and place, and I’ll be there.” She laughed.

…

School wasn’t so bad, Skye thought.

Monday morning had been a little traumatic, especially when Phil and Mel first left, but then she had met Grant Ward and they had become best friends. After that, the week was much better.

On Tuesday Miss Potts taught them all about the continents, and Skye even put her hand up to tell the class how polar bears lived in the Arctic, where penguins lived in the Antarctic, so they never really met unless they were at a zoo. She got a sticker from Miss Potts for doing that with a happy bumble bee on it, and Skye got to wear it all day and even take it home and stick it on her bed, right on her headboard in the middle.

At recess, Agent Skye and Agent Ward teamed up with Captain America to defeat the red skull, and even though Ward didn’t really know who Captain America was, he still played the game really well.

On Wednesday, they did reading in class in groups with Miss Potts. She moved the tables around and split them all into groups (Skye was with Grant so that was okay) and they each had to read sections from the book Miss Potts gave them. Skye liked hearing everyone else in her group read, especially when it was Ward’s turn, and each time someone needed help with a word, Miss Potts helped and never sounded mad or shouted like her old teacher, but Skye still didn’t want to. She would never cry in front of the other kids in case they teased her, but when Miss Potts asked Skye to read the next part of the story, she felt like it.

Then she got a bit mad, and she wanted to tear the stupid page out of the stupid book and leave the stupid school and just go home. But she didn’t get the chance, because Miss Potts said it was okay if she didn’t want to read in the group, and she didn’t have to. Instead, she got to read her own special choice of book from Miss Potts’ shelf, and read it only to Miss Potts so none of the other kids could hear. That was good.

This morning, Thursday, Skye had gone into school on her own, and hadn’t even felt scared. May and Phil watched from the gate, and she had kissed Mr. Snow and Charlotte before she left, but Skye went into the playground and found Agent Ward next to the jungle gym, all by herself. And then the rest of the day had gone just as well; learning about the animals in Africa, singing a song with another of the classes, and playing spies with Ward. School was pretty good.

Miss Potts finished the story about the four children, five minutes before school ended, so she said they could all just sit and talk until the bell went. Skye and Grant sat in their usual spot (and Skye loved the fact that she had a ‘usual’ spot now) on the carpet and talked.

“Tony said he was going to see your Mom and Dad today.” Grant said to Skye.

“He did? Why is he seeing them?”

“He’s made some new treadmill and he wants them to buy it.” Grant grinned at her. “It’s _awesome_. He let me play on it until Pepper saw and got mad.”

It was still a bit weird to hear Grant call Miss Potts ‘Pepper’. Skye turned to look at her teacher, sitting by her desk. She couldn’t imagine her ever being mad.

“Did she shout at you?” Skye asked, concerned.

“Nope.” He shrugged.

Skye dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did she _hit_ you?”

Grant looked scandalised. “ _No._ No, Skye. She doesn’t ever hit.”

“Oh.” Skye said, relieved. “Good.”

“She was mad at Tony, not me. But she would never hit me, or him. Neither would Tony.” Ward frowned. “Do…do your mom and dad ever hit you?”

“No.” Skye said immediately. “Mel and Phil are good. They don’t do that.”

“That’s good, then.” He flicked a little rolled up piece of paper at her and she began batting it around by her feet. “How come you don’t you say ‘mom’ and ‘dad’?” Ward asked curiously and Skye’s stomach dropped.

She’d been avoiding discussing her lack of parents with anyone, and had been exceedingly grateful to realise Miss Potts hadn’t said anything about it to Grant.

Skye didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want any of the kids to know she was an orphan. It was that sort of thing that kids always felt the need to bring up over and over until it turned into some sort of joke between her and whole class that was funny to everyone except Skye. Maybe Ward would understand, _maybe_ , but he wasn’t an orphan and Skye didn’t want him to find out, so she just continued looking at the paper ball on the floor and pretended not to have heard him.

“Skye?”

“What?” She glanced up. Grant was watching her curiously.

“How come you don’t say ‘mom’ and ‘dad’?”

“How come _you_ don’t?” She snapped viscously, and squished the paper ball with her palm.

Grant Ward shrugged his shoulders. “Because Pepper and Tony aren’t my mom and dad.”

He said it so easily, and Skye supposed it was easier for him because everyone in the school knew he was living with Pepper and Tony, and they didn’t seem to care. But Skye still felt bad for snapping at him.

“Mel and Phil aren’t _my_ mom and dad.” Skye said quietly. “But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Oh.” He said quietly. “Okay. I promise I won’t tell.” Grant said. He scooted closer to her so that their arms were pressed together and he could whisper without any of the other kids hearing. “But why did you say they were your mom and dad when I saw them the other day?”

Skye frowned in thought. “They are my mommy and daddy. Kind of.”

Grant looked thoroughly confused. “Huh?”

“Um” Skye wracked her brain for the best way to explain it.

Back at the orphanage, lots of the kids spent much of their time asking questions about their family, and the nuns wouldn’t be much help, but Abby the social worker would always answer them. Skye thought back to Abby’s answers. “Well, it’s like this.” She said, and looked over to Grant, he was listening with rapt attention.

“I don’t have biological parents.” Skye explained. “I never knew them and they didn’t want me, so I lived in an orphanage with other kids like me.”

“Okay.” Grant said.

“So, then I sometimes lived with families- foster parents- who were meant to be my ‘forever family’.” The phrase left a bitter taste in Skye’s mouth as she thought back to the nine foster families before Mel and Phil who Abby had once claimed to be a ‘forever family’. Apparently Skye and Abby had different definitions of the word ‘forever’.

Grant, too appeared to be familiar with the phrase, but he was smiling brightly. “Pepper and Tony are my forever family.” He said. “When my mom couldn’t take care of me anymore, I stayed with a nice lady for a few weeks, that was when I first came to this school, but then Pepper and Tony said I could live with them.” He looked over at Miss Potts. “That was what the social worker said they were. My forever family.”

Skye wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t hold his breath. Just because he was being fostered, that didn’t mean it was for forever, but that would be mean, so she just bit her tongue.

“So Mel and Phil are your forever family?” Grant said.

“Yeah. My tenth.” Skye tried to keep the spite out of her tone but didn’t succeed.

Grant Ward touched her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Skye said, shrugging him off, and it was. For now, she was happy, at home and at school. Life was pretty good today, and if Skye had learned anything throughout her short life, it was not to think too much about tomorrow. “Anyway, Mel and Phil are the best mom and dad I’ve ever had, so that’s good.”

“Well then.” Grant said. “Maybe they _could_ be your ‘forever family’? Like actually for _forever._ ”

The bell rang, and Miss Potts told them all to line up by the door so Skye didn’t have to answer Grant. They stood together at the back of the line and Skye faced away from him, but Grant nudged Skye.

“I _know_ I’m going to be with Pepper and Tony forever. Don’t ask my how, I just do. And that’s awesome.” He smiled. “But I have a mom, and a dad…somewhere, and even though she can’t take care of me, I can’t really replace her. And I don’t want to.”

Skye felt a little jealous that technically Grant had _two_ sets of parents, but she reminded herself not to be. The grass wasn’t always greener.

“But,” He continued, “your mom and dad could be Mel and Phil. You’ve got a family now, we both have, and you have to _make sure_ it’s going to be forever.”

Skye shook her head. “I want it to be forever but I can’t _make_ it be forever. I try to be good, but-,”

“You should tell them you want to stay.” He said, as if it were that simple. “When I tell Pepper and Tony that I love them forever, they always say ‘love you too, forever and ever’. Do you love Mel and Phil?”

“Yes.” Skye said with a certainty that surprised even her.

“You should tell them that. Then they’d know you wanted to stay, and they would keep you forever.” He clapped his hands together. “Forever family.”

Skye did love Mel and Phil. She did. And that was pretty scary, because they could kick her out of the house at any time. Natasha was coming back home tomorrow and when she did, Melinda and Phil might realise they only wanted Bobbi and Natasha, and kick Skye out. It was the main reason she had been trying _so_ hard to be good, so that they would love her too, like Miss Potts loved Grant, and so they would want to keep her. They kept Bobbi and Natasha around, so if Skye were extra good like them, maybe she’d have a chance, too.

When she left the school, and Grant stayed inside with Miss Potts, Skye ran over to where Melinda stood by the school gates. She opened her arms for Skye, and Skye jumped so that Mel had to catch her mid-air, but Melinda was amazing so of _course_ she caught Skye. Skye didn’t even mind that the other kids could see her cuddling May, because as good as school was, that talk with Grant had made her miss Mel and Phil an awful lot.

“Good day?” Mel asked as she kissed her cheek.

“Yeah.” Skye said, and let Mel put her back on the ground.

“What did you learn about today?”

“Africa. And all the animals.” Skye said, walking hand-in-hand with Mel. She told her all about the elephants and the pictures of the lions they saw, and even san the little part of the song she could remember.

When they reached the car Melinda opened the door for Skye to get in, and she climbed over the middle to hug Phil from behind the driver’s seat.

“Hi, Phil.”

“Hello, sweetheart.” He laughed, and reached his arms backward to hug her back awkwardly.

Charlotte and Mr. Snow were still strapped into her booster seat from the morning, so Skye unbuckled them so she could get into the chair and have them on her knee.

They drove home with the radio on, and when Phil sang along with some of the songs, Melinda would tease him and tell him he was terrible, but even Skye could tell she was just teasing him. Phil wasn’t that bad. It was nice. Skye hugged Mr. Snow and Charlotte and pushed her nose into the bear’s fur. Both toys had been sleeping in her bed and his fur smelled like home.

_Home._

Having Mel and Phil as her forever family seemed like the best thing in the world. She loved them a lot. And it was too scary to tell them out loud, so instead, Skye looked at the back of their heads and screamed it as loud as she could in her head, over and over again.

_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you._

And maybe, somehow, they would hear her.

…

Although her file contained incident report after incident report pertaining to ‘ _night-time trauma’,_ Melinda hadn’t yet had an issue getting Skye peacefully asleep in bed. Really, the only issue was waking her up in the morning, but even then she hadn’t been putting up too much of a fuss.

That being said, Skye liked having company at bedtime, Melinda had noticed. She had no arguments when either Mel orPhil said it was bedtime, but she became rather clingy, especially towards Mel. Tonight was no different.

Phil bid his goodnights to Skye downstairs. He was on the phone with Steve, apparently work-related, although Melinda could hear bursts of laughter every few minutes so she suspected there may have been a change of topic over the course of a phone call. Tony Stark had been attempting to get them to buy a new fleet of high-tech treadmills that had functions that even Melinda was unsure of. His methods for getting her and Phil to approve the sale had apparently consisted of hanging around the gym and the offices for hours on end annoying everyone. She was a little ashamed to admit that it had worked and SHIELD gyms were now the proud owners of twenty new Stark Industries treadmills.

Mel was snuggled next to Skye on her bed, arm around her little girl as she waited for her to drift off. Every parenting book out there probably reprimanded this behaviour, saying Mel was getting her into a bad habit or something, but she didn’t care. This nightly cuddle time wasn’t _just_ for Skye. It was a new practice that Mel had never really had the opportunity to experience, having taken care of mostly older kids, and she loved it.

“Are you excited?” Skye asked her out of the blue, looking over at Mel with sleepy eyes illuminated in the blue light from her star lamp.

“What for, honey?”

Skye turned onto her side, pulling Charlotte the spider under her chin. “For Natasha coming home.”

“Oh, I’m very excited.” She said. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen her?”

Skye seemed to consider it for a second, and Mel reached out to brush some of the baby hair wisps off her head.

“Three weeks?”

“Longer.” Mel said.

“Four weeks?” Skye guessed.

“Longer.”

“ _Five_ weeks?”

“Two _months_.”

Skye’s mouth fell open. “You haven’t seen your daughter in _two months_?”

“Hey, I haven’t seen Bobbi since June.”

Skye gasped. “Oh my gosh. It’s October!”

“I know. They’re busy you see. Bobbi has work and Nat’s been at school since the end of August. She and Clint have been too busy to visit.” Mel said. She felt a little tightness in her chest at the thought of her daughter and Clint. She _really_ did miss them.

“Do you think...?” Skye trailed off, looking down and rubbing her fingers over Charlotte the spider’s feet.

“What, baby?”

Skye spoke quietly enough that Mel had to strain to hear her even in the quiet bedroom. “Do you think Natasha will like me? What if she doesn’t like me?”

And didn’t that just tear open Melinda’s heart.

“Oh, my baby girl. Your big sister, Nat, she’s going to love you. And so is Clint.” Mel cuddled Skye close, nuzzling into her temple.“What makes you think she won’t love you?”

Skye pressed her face into Melinda’s shoulder. “Dunno.”

Mel rubbed her back. She had spoken to Nat earlier that day. Just a fleeting phone call to clarify the time for airport pickup the next day, but the teenager had been very vocal regarding her excitement at meeting her new younger sister. For years both Nat and Bobbi had asked for a younger sibling, but Natasha had always been the most dedicated to the cause.

“Are you excited about meeting Natasha and Clint?” Mel asked Skye.

“Yeah.” Skye said. A little smile appeared on her face. “She’s nice?”

“Natasha is very nice.” Mel stroked Skye’s cheek. “Did you know Natasha lived in St. Agnes’ for a little while?”

Skye blinked at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. You know Nat came to live with us when she was fourteen?” Skye nodded. They had explained that to her the other day, although she and Phil had left the details out, not wanting to give Skye a bad impression. She was a little too young to understand some of the things, _most of the things_ , Mel corrected herself, Nat had been through. “Well, before that Nat lived with some not very nice people.”

Skye listened to the story, concern written all over her face, and Melinda thought about how much certain elements of this story would resonate with little Skye and her spotty past.

“And those not very nice people she lived with did some very bad things, and the police took them away.”

“To jail?” Skye asked.

“Yeah.” She said out of ease. Skye could learn about deportation and fire fights when she was older. “But the police saved Nat, and they took her to St. Agnes’ to stay.” Mel did the math in her head. “That was about five and a half years ago. You might have been there.”

“I can’t remember.” Skye frowned.

“Well,” Mel smoothed out the frown with her thumb, “you wouldn’t. You’d have been too young to remember. But Nat wasn’t there for very long anyway.”

“How long?”

“About eighteen hours.”

“Oh. I was there for eight years.” Skye said. “How comes she got out so early?”

Melinda debated not telling Skye the real reason for Nat being moved from the orphanage so early, but she saw no point. She would find out eventually. Natasha had a habit of introducing herself to their acquaintances as ‘the Russian one who punched a nun’.

“Abby called me.” Mel said. “Because she needed someone to take care of Natasha for a little while, because she got scared.”

“What was Natasha scared of?” Skye asked. “You said Natasha was brave.”

“She is, baby. Nat’s one of the bravest people I know, but even brave people get frightened. And Natasha, couldn’t tell anyone she was scared, because she didn’t speak very much English.”

“Huh?”

“Nat spoke Russian, you see. And no one at St. Agnes’ speaks Russian, so Nat felt scared.” Mel rubbed her fingers through Charlotte’s fur. “Imagine if you were somewhere where no one spoke English.”

“I’d be scared.” Skye breathed. “Natasha’s very brave.”

“So are you, you know.” Mel kissed her head. “But now, it’s time to sleep.”

Mel made a move to get off the bed, but Skye grabbed her arm and kept her where she was.

“You can’t go.” Skye said. “You never told me the rest of the story! Why did Natasha leave St. Agnes’? She was scared, then what?”

“Oh,” Mel said, “She punched one of the nuns.”

Skye grinned. “No. Way.”

“Yes. Way.” Mel laughed at the pure glee on Skye’s face. “But it was a bad decision and she felt really bad about it afterwards.” Admittedly, that part was a little exaggerated. Nat still admitted to being proud of that particular punch, and Mel would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit proud of Nat for the punch.

“Natasha’s awesome.” Skye said wistfully, snuggling back down in her blankets and sucking her thumb.

“She’ll be thrilled to know you think so.” Melinda smiled. “Now, baby girl. You’ve got school tomorrow. Sleepy time.”

Mel kissed Skye on the cheek and climbed off her bed. “Sleep tight, little girl.” She tucked the covers around her little body, Charlotte the spider and Mr. Snow the polar bear peeking out of the top. “Sweet dreams.” She said. _I love you._ She said in her mind. She didn’t want to freak Skye out with an admission of love too early on in their relationship.

Skye looked up at her sleepily, sucking gently on her thumb. “Night, Mel.” She said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It came out like a question, Mel thought. “Of course.” She kissed her again. “I’ll always be there, okay?” Mel said. She wasn’t sure Skye had ever had anyone she truly believed was always going to ‘be there’, and Mel wanted to be that person. “I’ll see you in the morning, baby.”

“See you in the morning.”

…

Skye went to school in the morning without any problems, as usual, and they picked her up a little earlier than usual so that she could come with them to the airport to get Clint and Natasha. She hadn’t stopped talking since Phil had gone into the school to get her, chattering constantly about Grant Ward and his part in their little spy game.

“And then,” Skye said from the back seat, “Agent Ward shot the bad guy and we were safe.”

Phil turned in the passenger seat to look at his little girl. “Grant shot someone?” He asked.

“No.” Skye said exasperatedly. “ _Agent Ward_ shot someone.”

“Oh, I see.” Phil smirked.

“But it’s okay.” Skye assured him seriously. “He didn’t use bullets. He used the night-night gun. So the bad guy just went to sleep.”

Phil shook his head. A child’s imagination was a fascinating thing.

“Night-night gun?” Mel said from the driver’s seat as they pulled into the airport parking lot.

“Yeah.” Skye said, getting distracted by a plane flying overhead and pressing her face against the window. “It might need a better name.”

Melinda found a space and pulling in, and switching off the engine. “Ready?” She said, looking at both Phil and Skye.

“Yep.” Phil said. Skye nodded, still looking out of the window.

He and Mel got out of the car, but Skye made no attempt to move. Phil opened the back door and poked his head in.

“You coming, Skye?” He asked.

Skye looked up at him with a little frown. She held Charlotte and Mr. Snow to her chest. “They can come see the planes, too?”

Phil smiled at Skye’s concern for her toys. He heard Melinda laugh somewhere behind him. “Of course, honey.” He said.

Skye’s face relaxed and she got out of the car, a toy under each arm. She sidled up to Mel and rearranged the toys in her arms until she had a free hand to hold Mel’s. Phil closed the car door and took Melinda’s free hand, leading his girls towards the airport.

“Have you ever been on a plane?” Skye asked, walking with her head tipped towards the Skye.

“Yeah.” Mel said.

“Lots of times.” Phil agreed.

Skye looked at both of them with wonder. “Wow. You were in the _sky?”_

Phil grinned at Skye’s absolute shock. Flying was one of those things that he took completely for granted. He’d flown all over for various business reasons, and both Bobbi and Nat were flying to and from home all the time. Too little Skye, being in up in the air in a plane seemed unbelievable.

“I _was_ in the sky.” Phil said. “One day we’ll go on vacation and take you on an aeroplane, Skye. How does that sound?”

She looked around Mel to peer at him dubiously. “Sounds a bit scary.”

“Well,” Phil shrugged as they entered the airport, “it’s pretty exciting, too.”

“Whatever you say.” Skye shrugged.

…

They’d arrived at the airport early enough that Phil had been able to and get him and Mel some tea and coffee, and Skye some juice, and Skye had been allowed to sit by the floor-to-ceiling windows and watch the aeroplanes take off and land. From what Melinda could make out from Skye’s ‘ooohs’ and ‘wows’, she was having a good time plane spotting. Charlotte and Mr. Snow sat on the floor by Skye as she pointed out various planes taxiing on the runway.

Melinda and Phil sat next to each other in the uncomfortable airport chairs. Nat’s flight had landed about fifteen minutes earlier, Phil having pointed the plane out to Skye. Ever since, the little girl had been eagerly asking ‘how long?’ Her eight year olds’ patience quota being tested and pushed to the limit.

“How long now?” Skye asked almost on cue, turning to Mel.

Melinda took another sip of her tea. “About two minutes less than when you last asked.” She smiled.

Skye pouted. “But _how long?_ You said the plane landed _ages_ ago. _”_ She sighed dramatically.

Phil laughed next to her. “Just a few more minutes. They have to get their luggage and that can take a while. There were lots of people on the flight.”

“’Kay.” Skye tucked her toys under her arm and shuffled back on the carpet until her back was against Melinda’s legs. She leaned her head on Mel’s knee, still looking out of the window.

“You okay?” Mel asked, stroking the top of Skye’s head.

“Mm.” Skye’s thumb worked its way up to her mouth, a sure sign she was getting tired. She didn’t suck it, but she rubbed her thumb against her lips.

Mel continued to stroke Skye’s hair. “Sleepy, baby?”

“No.” Skye said far too quickly.

“Me neither.” Phil said through a yawn and Mel rolled her eyes.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Phil doing some ‘work’ that looked suspiciously like Tetris on his phone, Skye watching the planes out of the window, and Mel stroking her hair. Melinda turned away from the window at the sounds of commotion coming from one of the gates. People began filing through the revolving door, pushing trollies of luggage and wrangling small children.

She nudged Phil. “I think this is their flight.”

He turned around and looked towards the gate. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Come on, we’ll go wait over there.”

It had seemed as though Skye had been eagerly awaiting Nat and Clint’s arrival, but when Melinda stood and waited for Skye to follow, she seemed a little reluctant to do so. Skye looked up at her from the floor, cuddling her toys close to her chest.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Mel crouched down beside Skye.

Skye pressed her face into Mr. Snow’s fur and mumbled something Melinda couldn’t make out. She turned back to Phil who was watching with badly masked concern.

“Go wait for the kids, Phil.” She said. “We’ll catch you up.”

He nodded and walked towards the gate, leaving her alone with Skye.

“Now,” Mel said, coaxing Skye’s face out of Mr. Snow’s fur, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Skye shuffled forwards on her knees and hugged Melinda, wrapping her arms around her tightly. Mel picked her up best she could with two cuddly toys also taking up room in her arms. She rocked Skye for a moment and kissed her head.

“Tell me.” Mel said. “Tell me what’s the matter, baby.” Skye said nothing but sat up in in her arms to look over to where Phil was standing by the gate. Skye tucked Charlotte the spider up under her chest.

“Are you a little nervous?” Mel asked, and the look on Skye’s face answered the question for her. Melinda mentally berated herself. Of _course_ Skye was feeling apprehensive. She had taken all of Skye’s apparent excitement at face value and failed to see the nervousness masked behind it. This was her fault. She should have been more sensitive to her little girl’s feelings. Guilt bubbled up inside of her.

“Oh, honey.” Mel said. “It’s okay. You can be nervous.”

“Yeah?” Skye looked over at Phil again and Mel began walking them over to where her husband stood, watching the passengers enter the terminal.

“Of course. You don’t have to be, but you _can_ be.” Melinda kissed her again.

The sea of people coming from the gate meant that Mel had to keep a constant eye on Phil’s position in order not to lose him among the jet-lagged passengers, but as an arguing family with way too many suitcases obscured her view of him, Melinda could no longer see her husband.

“Where…?” She was about to ask Skye if she could see Phil, when an unmistakeable flash of red caught her eye, and Melinda watched as Natasha launched herself at her dad, Clint following behind with her luggage. Skye’s arms tightened around her shoulders as she approached them.

Natasha was still hugging Phil enthusiastically, so it was Clint who actually spotted them first. Melinda grinned as his face lit up and he abandoned the suitcases to rush over and hug her, and by proxy, Skye.

“Hey, Mel.” He kissed her cheek as he pulled back. “How the hell are ya’?” He smiled at Skye and gave her a little wave, then didn’t seem in the least offended when the little girl shied away.

“I’m very good, _Clinton_.” Mel teased him with his full first name and he groaned.

“God, you’re so embarrassing.” He huffed with a smirk.

“I love you, too.” Mel laughed, hitching Skye further up her hip. The little girl had curled up awkwardly in her arms, head tucked into Mel’s neck. “Now, as much as I love you, my dear boy, I want to see my bubba.” Clint stepped out of the way to reveal Natasha eventually releasing her father from what appeared to be a death grip.

Melinda laughed. “Hey! Middle-child!” She called, and Nat turned around, beaming. “Get your butt over here and give your mama kisses.”

Nat’s smile could have lit San Francisco for the next twenty years, Mel was sure of it. Her eyes landed on Skye, who was still tucked against Melinda.

“Mama,” Nat said, “is this my little baby sister?”

Skye lifted her head at the mention of her, and Melinda pecked her cheek.

“You ready to meet Natasha, Skye?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I'm a terrible person and you have every right to be mad at me for ending at such a frustrating point. Hahahahaha- REVIEW?! xxx


	9. Skye's Big Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this!

Skye didn’t need to ask who these people were. She had been inspecting all of the photographs on the playroom door for long enough that she could easily pick out Clint and Natasha from a line-up, but seeing them _actually_ in person was different.

She only got a quick look at Natasha, mostly of the back of her head and her hair which seemed to be even redder than in the photographs, because she was hugging Phil. Skye thought it looked as though Natasha was trying to squeeze all the air out of Phil, but she mustn’t have been hurting him because he was smiling and kissing her head like he did when he picked Skye up from school.

Clint hugged her. Well, he hugged Melinda, but Skye was clinging to her because her tummy felt tight and sore, so Clint kind of hugged her too. He smiled and waved and seemed kind of nice, but Skye didn’t feel like talking to him yet so she hid her face in Melinda’s shoulder.

“I want to see my bubba.” Melinda said. That meant Natasha, Skye knew. Mel often called Nat that when she was talking about her to Phil. Skye didn’t know why.

“Hey! Middle-child!” Mel called. “Get your butt over here and give your mama kisses.”

Skye kept her face pressed into Mel’s shoulder. Mr. Snow and Charlotte hung by their paw and leg in her hand and they were both feeling pretty shy. Skye wanted to cuddle them properly, but in order to lift them into her arms, she would have to move her face, so she just told them to be brave in her mind.

“Mama,” Natasha said. She had a different voice than Skye imagined. “Is this my little baby sister?”

That was _her_.

 _Baby sister_.

Skye turned her head slightly so she could peek out over to Natasha. She was stood there in front of Skye and Mel, grinning at her. Skye lifted her head to get a better look at Natasha. She was beautiful, and she had a purple t-shirt on with a cat’s face wearing sunglasses and Skye wasn’t sure she’d seen anything cooler in her entire life.

Mel bounced her slightly on her hip and kissed Skye’s cheek.

“You ready to meet Natasha, Skye?”

Even though her tummy still felt tight, and even though Mr. Snow and Charlotte were both feeling shy and a bit nervous, Skye nodded, because she _did_ want to meet Natasha. Skye had been looking at Natasha’s photographs all week, and seeing her in person was a little weird, but Natasha was smiling and she had such a pretty smile. And Natasha was brave. Skye could be like Natasha.

Skye squirmed a little and Melinda put her down. She adjusted Mr. Snow and Charlotte in her arms.

Natasha got down onto her knees in front of Skye.

“You okay?” Mel asked, putting her hand on Skye’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Skye said, but she kept her eyes on Natasha.

“Hello, Skye. I’m Nat.”

Natasha sat down and crossed her legs in the same way Skye did at school, except they weren’t at school, they were in the middle of an airport. Skye wanted to laugh because it was really bizarre, and Natasha didn’t seem to care that people walking past were looking at her funny, but Skye still felt a little shy so she bit her lip.

“Hello.” Skye said quietly.

Natasha looked at Mr. Snow and Charlotte. “Are these yours?” She asked.

Skye wanted to tell her all about Mr. Snow and Charlotte. About how Phil bought them for her and how they slept in her bed at night and stayed in the car while she was at school. She especially wanted to tell Natasha how Charlotte was really a present for her, but Skye just nodded. Her voice didn’t want to work right now.

“I like them a lot.” Natasha smiled. She pointed to Charlotte, but didn’t touch her. “Is this one a spider?”

Skye nodded again.

“Cool.” Clint said, and he sat on the ground by Natasha. More people were looking at them as they walked by, but Clint didn’t seem to mind either. “Nat likes spiders, don’t ya, Nat?”

Natasha grinned. “Yeah. Spiders are awesome. Some people are scared of them,” she looked behind Skye at Melinda, “but I think they’re the best.”

“I’m not _scared_.” Melinda said. “I’m reasonably cautious of them.”

Natasha leaned forward to whisper to Skye. “That’s the same thing.”

Skye giggled. Natasha was funny.

“Hey, you want to see something cool?” Natasha asked.

Skye smiled. “Yes, please.” She said, and Natasha must of heard even though Skye’s voice was a little quiet, because she said something Skye didn’t catch to Clint, and he moved over to where their luggage was.

Clint passed a small clear box with a handle to Natasha. At first Skye thought it was empty, except for some sandy stuff in the bottom, but them she spotted it.

“Oh my gosh.” She breathed, putting Mr. Snow and Charlotte down by Phil’s feet so she could crawl over to Natasha and the little box. Skye peered into the tank, mesmerised by the animal standing stoically in the corner. The tarantula was _huge_. Way bigger than the spiders they often found in the showers at the orphanage, and those spiders were pretty big. “Wow.”

“This is my pet spider.” Natasha said. “Her name is Tallulah. But we call her Lulu for short.”

Skye looked away from Lulu to smile at Natasha. “That’s a pretty name. I like her.” She gently put a finger up to the clear plastic. “I like her a lot.”

Melinda spoke behind her, but Skye stayed focused on Lulu. “It will forever bother me that you can get that _thing_ on an aeroplane so easily.” Mel said.

“Mom, she has a name.” Natasha said.

“Yeah.” Skye agreed, because she thought that names were very important and everyone deserved a good one. “She’s called Lulu, Mel.”

“See.” Natasha said. “Skye gets it.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Skye shuffled closer to Natasha. “Don’t I get it, Natasha?” Skye wasn’t one hundred per cent sure what it was that she ‘got’, but she was thrilled that Natasha thought she did.

“Yeah.” Her big sister said. “You do, Skye.”

…

Nat was thrilled to discover that Skye, her new baby sister, seemed just as eager to get to know her, as she was to get to know Skye. Skye still seemed a little shy, but when they piled into her dad’s car to go home, Nat offered to hold Skye’s toys if the little girl kept Lulu’s travel tank on her lap, and Skye had been chattering on to the spider the whole way home.

“And then,” Skye was saying to Lulu, “Captain America saves the whole world from the Red Skull because he’s the best superhero ever.”

“I’m glad to see your still subjecting everyone to your love for Cap, Phil.” Clint laughed, poking her dad in the back of the neck.

“Stop it.” Nat elbowed him. “He’s driving.”

“Sorry.” Clint smirked at her and pecked her cheek.

Nat turned to Clint and rubbed her nose against his ear. “It’s not me you should be apologising to, dummy.”

“Sorry for poking you in the neck while driving, _Dad_.” He said in a tone that gave the impression he was apologising at gunpoint. Clint’s cheeky grin never left his face and it was at times like this that Natasha knew she was seeing Clint like he would have looked at Skye’s age. God, she loved this idiot.

“Thanks, Clint.” Her dad replied. “That was such a heart-wrenching and sincere apology.”

Nat rolled her eyes at her dad’s sarcasm and instead turned her attentions back to Skye when her dad and Clint started discussing Clint’s job back in DC. The little girl was watching avidly as Lulu began stretching out her legs, moving slowly to the other side of the small tank.

“Look, Natasha.” Skye said. “She’s moving.”

Nat’s mom groaned in front of them.

“Oh, calm down, mama.” Nat laughed. “She can’t get out of the tank.”

Her mother turned in her seat to look at Nat and Skye. Her face softened when she saw Skye beaming up at Nat, but it was short lived as her eyes fell back on Nat’s pet.

“That’s exactly what you said the last time it escaped, Natasha.”

Nat shrugged. “We found her didn’t we?”

“Yes.” Her mom said. “After six hours I found it in my _pillowcase_.”

Skye tugged on Natasha’s elbow. Her baby sister was smiling widely. “Did you _really_ lose Lulu in Mel’s pillow?”

Nat nodded. “They like to hide, you see.” She lifted Skye’s toy spider up to her ear. “Isn’t that right?” She said to the toy, making it nod at Skye. The little girl giggled. “And Lulu just wanted a nice safe spot to camp out for a little while.”

Tasha’s mother turned back around to face forwards. “I love you, Tash, but I swear if that freaking spider escapes again I’m going to step on it.”

Simultaneous cries of “Mom!” and “Mel!” came from Nat and Skye in the back of the car.

Skye worriedly looked over to Natasha. “Will she really step on her?” Skye pulled the tank closer to her on her lap. Nat loved this. Not only did she have a gorgeous little sister to dote on, but she was a fan of Lulu. Natasha loved Bobbi more than life, but they had never shared the same passion when it came to Nat’s love of arachnids. Bobbi tolerated the pet, but wasn’t exactly a fan.

“Don’t worry.” Nat wrapped an arm around Skye’s shoulder and smiled when the little girl leaned in to the embrace rather than shaking it off. “Mom won’t really hurt Tallulah. _Right mom?”_

“Right.” Her mother said in the most unconvincing tone Nat had ever heard, but Skye visibly relaxed anyway, and went back to admiring her pet.

“Hey, baby sis?” Nat asked, running her fingers through the sparkling fur of the toy spider.

“Yeah?” Skye stopped her admiration of Lulu to look over at her.

“What are you bear and spider called? Do they have names?” Nat had never really had a plush toy like this. When she was in Russia there had never been enough money to spare for toys and after moving to the US with Ivan, well, toys were the last things on her mind to worry about. Nat tightened her arm around Skye.

Skye would never have to worry about the things she had. Never. Natasha would make sure of that. And not just Nat. Since their parents had taken Skye in, Nat and Bobbi had been having increasingly long Skype calls discussing the protection of their baby sister. If anyone dared lay a finger on the little girl, they’d have Bobbi’s wrath, Tasha’s temper, and Clint’s arrows after them. 

Her little sister pulled Nat from her musings, pointing to the white bear sitting in her lap. “That’s Mr. Snow.” Skye explained, and Nat felt herself smiling.

“Is that because he’s a polar bear?” She guessed.

Skye’s face lit up. “Yes! That’s _exactly_ why.”

“And this one?” She asked of the sparkly spider. If Nat was being completely honest, she was kind of fond of the cute plushie.

“Um…well…” Skye stumbled over her words, the shyness Nat had thought was dissipating, creeping back in. “Her name is Charlotte. Like in the book.”

“That’s a great name.” Nat said. She wasn’t familiar with the book Skye was referring to, but maybe it was one of those things everyone knew that Nat had missed out on. She didn’t want Skye to think less of her, like people sometimes did at college when things like this crept up, so Nat made a note to ask Clint about it later.

“Do you like Charlotte?” Skye asked quietly.

“Of course I do.” Nat said. “I think she’s awesome.” And there was no lie there.

Skye smiled. “Good. ‘Cos I got her for you, Natasha.”

Nat thought that she had heard Skye wrong, but her little sister was lifting Mr. Snow the polar bear out of her lap, leaving Charlotte the spider.

“You got her for me?” Nat felt the need to check. She felt her cheeks getting hot.

“Yeah. Well, Phil helped.” Skye said. “Do you like her?”

Nat wrapped both arms around Skye and hugged her so carelessly that she felt Clint reach out from beside her and save Lulu’s tank from falling off Skye’s lap and onto the floor. Skye hugged Nat back, and it felt wonderful. Part of Natasha wondered if this was how her parents had felt when she had eventually given in and shown affection towards them. It made her feel a little guilty that she had held off for so long when it came to her mom and dad. Tasha swore to show them how much she loved them more often.

“I love her, Skye. Thank you so much.” Nat let Skye go, keeping one arm around her.

“You’re welcome.” Skye said shyly, but kept a hold on Nat’s hand now that Clint was in charge of Lulu.

Speaking of. “Was I not invited to the cuddle party?” Clint asked, doing his best fake pout, the one he usually reserved for when he wanted Nat to stay and cuddle in bed on his days off.

“You don’t get to come to the cuddle party.” Nat said. “You didn’t get me the best gift in the world.”

Skye giggled at Clint’s scandalised look.

“I don’t get hugs?” He pouted again, this time at Skye. “Aww. Tell her that’s not fair, Skye.” He was so good with kids. Nat knew, just from various interactions they had had with them, but Skye’s warming to him seemed only to prove her point.

“Here.” Skye passed Mr. Snow over to Clint and he took the bear, holding it as if it were worth a million dollars. “You can have hugs from Mr. Snow ‘til we get home. He gives good hugs.”

“Thank you, Skye. That’s very thoughtful of you.” Clint smiled, and then eyed Natasha. He gave her a look that told her he was in love with this little girl just as much as she was. But then, how could he not be? Her baby sister was gorgeous.

Lulu’s travel tank was passed back to Skye and she spent the rest of the journey home alternating between talking to the humans in the car and to the spider in the tank. Clint stroked his fingers through Mr. Snow’s white fur as he answered all of her mom’s questions about his job. Tasha joined in with the conversations., catching up with her parents, but her mind remained on the toy cuddled up to her chest. Charlotte the spider’s big eyes watched her with more expression than Nat had ever considered possible in _toys_. Even the baby dolls in the playroom at home she still liked to dress, especially when things got a bit too much to handle, didn’t look at her with so much feeling.

Over the course of the five years Mel and Phil had been ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, Nat had gained a fair few ‘things’. Stuff she had grown particularly fond of over the years.

She had various items of clothing she was reluctant to get rid of, even though they no longer fit, simply because her mother had bought them for her or given them to her, and at the time she had been so touched by the gesture.

She had a little Captain America desk calendar from four years ago that had stood proudly on her desk at home until she moved to DC with Clint, where it had migrated to her desk there, because it had been a present from her dad.

Nat had a whole box of various things Bobbi had given to her over the years. Stupid stuff like key rings and fridge magnets and just tacky trinkets Bobbi had found with spiders on that she knew Nat would like. And then she had the really special things Bobbi had given her; drawings of the two of them and notes Bob had pushed under her bedroom door and left in her coat pockets after they had had a fight and felt bad about it.

And Clint, well, she had a whole host of things she wouldn’t ever want to part with because _he_ had been the one to give them to her. She reached up and ran her fingers over the little silver arrow that permanently rested around her throat.

For a girl who had spent most of her life with less than the bare minimum, Tasha had a lot of _stuff_.

Charlotte the spider smelled like Skye. She guessed her little sister had been hugging the toy and the thought made Nat tighten her grip on Charlotte. Tasha had lots of _stuff_ now that she had a family, but there were a few special things she had promised herself to never part with. That one particular hoodie that had once belonged to her mother but had been given to Nat- the one she still occasionally made her mom sleep in so that it would smell of her when she got it back. The calendar her dad had bought her, and had written little notes on each page before he gave it to her. The drawing of her and Bobbi, on the back of which, her big sister had written her a letter. The necklace from Clint that stayed around her neck.

Charlotte the spider was being added to that list.

Nat pressed her face into Charlotte’s glittery fur and inhaled deeply, smelling _home_. “You can stay.” She told the spider quietly. Nat looked over to Skye who was having an animated one-sided dialogue with Lulu. “And I’ll take care of her.” She promised Charlotte. “I’ll take care of Skye.”

…

Skye was having a great time.

She had been a little worried that Natasha wouldn’t want her to be her sister, but she kept calling her ‘baby sis’ and that meant that Natasha really _did_ want to be Skye’s sister. And she loved Charlotte the spider. Even when they were eating dinner, Natasha kept Charlotte on her lap the whole time. Mr. Snow had to sit on the counter top though, next to the TV, because he was white and Mel said Skye might get food on him.

Lulu the tarantula wasn’t allowed in the kitchen at first, but then Mel said she wanted to be able to see her in case she escaped- even though she kept saying she wasn’t scared, Skye thought she really was. It was awesome that Natasha had a pet spider, Skye thought.

Her big sister was so cool.

And Clint. Clint was cool, too.

Skye waited patiently for everyone to finish their food before she grabbed Natasha’s hand and plucked Mr. Snow off the counter. “You want to come and play with me, Natasha?” She asked.

“What about me?” Clint asked. He did his funny sad face that made Skye giggle.

“You too, Clint.” Skye tucked Mr. Snow under her arm so that she could hold Clint’s hand too.

“Let’s go then.” Natasha said, and led the way to the playroom.

“Wait!” Mel called after them and Natasha stopped. “Take your bug with you.”

“She’s not a _bug_.” Natasha said. She had to let go of Skye’s hand to pick up Lulu’s little tank.

“She’s not a _bug_ , Mel.” Skye reiterated. “And she has a name.” She reminded her.

Mel rolled her eyes, but she was smiling at Skye. She pointed at Natasha. “Mere hours you have spent with her, and you are already having a bad influence on my baby, Natasha.”

Natasha grinned and took Skye’s hand again, holding Lulu’s tank and Charlotte in the other. “What can I say, mama? I’m just _that_ good.”

“Yeah.” Skye said. “She’s just that good.”

“Oh Lord.” Clint laughed. “She’s got a mini me.”

“What were we thinking, putting these two together?” Phil said. “We’ve created an evil team.”

“No.” Skye argued. “We’re not _evil.”_ She looked to Natasha who was nodding too. The Red Skull was evil. They were the good guys. Agent Skye was a good guy.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Phil said. “Go be the goodies.”

Skye kind of forgot that this was Natasha and Clint’s house way before it was her house, so when they both led her to the playroom in a way that made Skye think they could have done it blindfolded, she was a little surprised. The door to the playroom was closed and Natasha looked at the pictures on it for a few seconds before letting go of Skye and putting her hand on the handle.

“You got one up here yet, baby sis?” Natasha asked, nodding to the pictures on the door.

Skye shrugged. “I don’t like drawing.”

“You don’t?” Clint sounded surprised as they all entered the playroom.

“Well…” Skye let go of Clint’s hand to go and sit by Bobbi’s Barbies. They were all still having a yoga lesson in the ‘front yard’, just like Skye had left them. “I used to like drawing but then…now I don’t.”

“Why not?” Natasha asked. Skye watched as Natasha set Lulu down on the desk. She kept Charlotte in her lap when she came to sit with Clint by Skye. “You don’t have to tell me.” Natasha said quietly.

“S’okay.” Skye picked up one of the red haired Barbies and made her walk up Natasha’s leg. Natasha put her arm around Skye, like she had in the car. It made Skye feel nice. Like when Mel and Phil gave her hugs, so she leaned into her big sister. “I lived with Miss Macy and she was kind of nice, but then she was mean.” Natasha’s arm got tighter around her. “I made her a card but when she got angry she, um, she tore it up.”

Natasha started stroking Skye’s hair like Mel did. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“S’okay.” And it was, because Skye didn’t live there anymore. She lived here. Here was good.

“You know that’s never going to happen again?” Natasha said. “I’m going to make sure that is never going to happen.”

“Me too.” Clint said.

“’Cos you’re brave.” Skye said.

“You can be brave, too.” Clint said. “Can’t she, Tash.”

“Yeah.” Natasha kissed her head. “You’re brave, Skye. Baby sis, you are _so_ brave.”

Skye didn’t know how Natasha could say that. “I’m not brave like you.” She said. She had never been somewhere that she hadn’t been able to speak the language. And she’d never punched a nun, even though that was probably more naughty than brave.

“I think you’re brave, Skye.” Natasha said.

Even if Natasha and Clint thought she was brave, Skye wasn’t sure she agreed, so she just went back to making the red haired Barbie do backflips off Natasha’s leg.

“Why don’t we play a game, huh?” Clint said. He got up and walked over to where the bored games sat on a shelf. “What game do you think, Skye?”

She hadn’t really played any of the games on the shelf, but a couple were familiar from school. “I don’t mind.”

“Tash? Any preference?” Clint asked.

“Not Monopoly.” She smiled. “I don’t have three weeks to spare.”

He lifted a box off the shelf and put it down beside Skye. “We’re going classic, guys. Shoots and Ladders.”

“I like that game.” Skye said. “We have it at school.”

Skye thought she should maybe help Clint set up the game, because she really did like Shoots and Ladders, but Natasha was still hugging her and Skye kind of wanted to cuddle her big sister for a little longer.

“What colour would you like to be?” Natasha asked her.

“Blue.” Skye said. “Blue, please.”

“Good choice, little sis.” Clint said and held up a hand for a high five.

Skye smiled and was about to high five him when Natasha held up both of her hands. “Three way high five!”

Her big brother and sister were so cool.

…

Having the two older kids back in the house meant that it was no longer an almost silent home after Skye was tucked up and asleep in bed. For years Phil and Melinda’s house was constantly full of kids; their kids, their kids’ friends, their kids’ _boyfriends-_ much to Phil’s chagrin _._ It had been a busy home full of bickering, laughter and loud music. At the time Mel and Phil had spent many nights telling the kids to go to bed and be quiet, but then it had gone. It had been quiet. Even when Skye had moved in it had been too quiet. 

It was late when Mel had eventually put Skye to bed. The little girl had played for hours in the playroom with Clint and Natasha, the three steadily making their way through their selection of bored games. The excitement and stress of her baby’s day had shown when Skye passed out after only a couple of minutes of cuddling. Not that she could speak herself. Melinda’s own fatigue was kicking her butt at the minute.

Clint and Nat had gone to bed not long after Skye, declaring they were tired from the flight, but Mel could still hear them moving around in their bedroom. She had no idea what they were doing, but every so often a round of laugher would break out followed by a lot of ‘shushing’ from Nat, so she suspected it was something they shouldn’t be doing. Probably something she didn’t _want_ to know about.

Melinda had missed this. This…noise. Chaos. Not that _this_ was chaos. She was lying in bed reading a terrible novel Maria had given her and it wasn’t even midnight. No, this wasn’t chaos by any stretch of the imagination, but having more people in the house was a welcoming comfort.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Phil asked, walking out of the ensuite and climbing into bed next to her. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Just,” Mel sighed, putting the really _awful_ book on the bedside table, “just that I miss the kids _so much_.”

Phil cocked an eyebrow at her. “You are aware that three quarters of them are like less them twenty feet away from us right now?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’ve missed having them here.”

“Too quiet without them.” Phil agreed, nudging her foot with his under the covers.

“Exactly.”

“It went well, huh?” Phil said. “Today. I was a little worried about Skye for a minute.”

Melinda nodded. It hadn’t really occurred to her how Skye’s little anxiety fit must have appeared to him at the airport. “She was nervous.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. It was my fault that I didn’t realise.” She sighed. “I mean I knew she would be nervous about meeting Tasha, but I just didn’t put two and two together that she was feeling _that_ anxious about the whole thing.”

Phil rubbed her arm and kissed her shoulder. “That’s not you’re fault, you know, Mel.”

She didn’t answer. Overlooking something as important as her little girl’s anxieties was inexcusable to Melinda.

“It’s _not_.” Phil insisted. “And it all turned out fine, anyway. Better than fine. They’ve got a little club going on.” He nudged her with his elbow until she looked at him, giving Mel a cheeky little grin. “Now Skye’s got a big sister and a big brother.”

Melinda smiled. There had been no question that Nat would be in love with Skye, but she was thrilled with how besotted Skye seemed to be with Natasha. Skye wanted to be a little Tasha mini-me. It was adorable, if very slightly irritating.

“Two down, one to go.” Mel laughed. “Bobbi’s going to have a lot to live up to. Maybe I should call her and tell her to buy a pet before she comes home. Worked for Nat.” Melinda grimaced. “Even if it is a _spider.”_

“Would you rather it was a dog? Because Clint is obsessed with dogs.” Phil shook his head.

“Yes. I’d rather it was a dog.”

Phil glared at her. “Do _not_ let Clint hear you say that. Because he will come back here with a dog. And Mel, I swear to god, I’m not taking care of a dog while they’re in DC.”

Melinda waved him off. “Clint is not that obsessed with dogs, Phil. You’re exaggerating.”

“Melinda, he has a picture of a dog is his wallet that he cut out from a vet advertisement in the paper.” Phil sat up. “In. His. _Wallet._ ”

“Calm down, we’re not going to let him get a dog.” Melinda yawned heavily and ran a hand through her hair.

“Tired?” Phil stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I guess. I think it’s just the week catching up to me.” She smiled. “I love Skye but it’s been a long time since I’ve had to deal with so much energy in one compact person.”

Phil kissed her cheek. “Kid’s like the freaking Energizer bunny.”

“Yeah.” Mel turned to head to meet her husband’s lips and kissed him gently. “But she’s pretty cute.”

“Mmm, I guess we’ll keep her.” He teased.

“I guess so.” Melinda cuddled up to him, resting her head on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her hair.

Mel smiled. “I’m glad I disobeyed my mother’s wishes and married you when I was eighteen.”

He chuckled. “Me too. I don’t think anyone else would have me.”

“Well, you’re not all bad.” She smiled.

“I mean, you’re the best wife ever.” Phil said.

“I know.”

Phil continued, fingers beginning to dance under the hem of her t-shit onto her bare belly. “How many wives would put up with my classic car obsession? Or my antique gadget obsession? Or my Captain America obsession?”

Melinda turned to look up at him. “God, you’re right, you _are_ hard to put up with.” She shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve decided that after twenty five years of marriage, I’m divorcing you. Bye.” She turned away from him with a smirk.

Phil poked her bare side with one finger. “Can I convince you otherwise?” He kissed her cheek, but then began tickling her stomach until the muscles jumped underneath her skin.

“M’not ticklish.” She mumbled into her pillow.

“Then why are you trying not to squirm?” He continued his onslaught of tickles until Melinda squeaked and batted him away.

“Phil. Okay, _Phil.”_ Melinda felt herself beginning to get hysterical, the smile aching her cheeks and the laughter aching her belly. He didn’t stop. “I will burn all of your Cap crap!”

For a second his fingers stilled and his face went serious, making Mel snort. “It is not _crap_ Melinda, it is a collection of memorabilia of one of the countries’ finest heroes.”

“He’s not real.” She fake whispered.

“How _dare_ you.” Phil lifted Melinda’s shirt and blew a raspberry onto her belly.

She squealed loudly and uncharacteristically. “ _Phil!”_

There were three short raps on their bedroom door, and red-faced and panting, both Phil and Melinda turned to the source of the noise.

“Oh my _God,_ you guys.” Natasha’s voice carried through the door clearly, a tiny hint of her Russian accent slipping through. “What are you doing in there?”

“Maybe they’re having sex.” Clint’s voice sniggered. “Ow!” Apparently Nat had punched him for that comment.

“Mom and Dad do _not_ have sex.” Nat said, seemingly to Clint. “They’re too old.”

Mel smiled at Phil. He was looking halfway between horrified and offended. She nudged him and grinned mischievously at him.

“Actually,” Mel called out to the kids outside of her door, “your dad and I have lots of sex.”

“ _Mommy!”_ Nat sounded scandalised. She could hear Clint laughing.

Phil’s cheeks were scarlet. Melinda was enjoying this far too much.

“In fact, Natasha,” Mel kept her eyes on Phil the entire time she spoke, loving his mortification. “We’re having sex right now as we speak.”

Melinda could no longer hold in the laughter bubbling up inside her when matching retching sounds from both Nat and Clint sounded through the door. Phil put his head in his hands and groaned, apparently loud enough that Nat heard because she immediately began cursing her parents for all it was worth.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Mel stood and walked over to their bedroom door, opening it to reveal the kids both looking pale and horrified. She stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed a little, keeping it still ajar.

“That was quick.” Clint muttered. Mel rolled her eyes and clipped him on the ear.

“I was kidding.” She turned to Natasha. “Calm down. I wasn’t having sex with your father.”

“Stop saying the _word_. Oh my God, mom.”

“So,” She cocked an eyebrow at the kids, “have I sufficiently traumatised you for life?”

“Yes.” The two said in tandem.

“Good.” Mel looked poignantly at Natasha. “We’re not too old to have _sex._ Lesson learned? _”_

“I feel sick.” Nat complained.

“Honey,” Mel put a gentle hand on Tasha’s shoulder and looked between her and Clint, “that’s exactly how your father feels about you having sex with Clint.”

Both Natasha and Clint blushed profusely. Clint scratched the back of his head, muttered something that sounded like ‘never be able to look him in the eye again’ and stumbled off in the direction of their room. Natasha bit her lip and looked down at her feet.

She kept her head down but peeked up at her mother. “Is he mad?”

Mel smiled. “Bubba, this isn’t a new revelation for him, no matter how much he likes to pretend he is unaware of your sexual exploits.”

“Ew, mom. Don’t call it _that.”_

“Sorry. But you know what I mean, Tash?” Mel held her hand out and Natasha took it, stepping closer to her mother.

“I kind of hoped he’d never find out.” Nat said quietly. “I don’t mind telling _you_ but…” She trailed off.

“Dad’s different?” Mel said sympathetically. She was forty three, not dead. She could still remember the awkward revelations she’d had with her own relatives and like most others on the planet, Nat would have to soldier through them.

“Dad’s different.” Nat confirmed.

Melinda tugged her forward the last few baby steps and pulled her teenager into her arms. Nat went gladly and hugged her mother tightly.

“While you’re here,” Mel said, “and while we’re on topic, I just want you to know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know, mama. We’ve had this conversation before.” Natasha sounded exasperated but Mel didn’t care, continuing regardless.

“I know, I know. But I want to reiterate the point.” She moved to hold Nat’s face in her hands, looking at her eye-to-eye. “ _Anything,_ Natasha.”

Natasha frowned and Mel dropped her hands from her face. “Mom…you, er, you don’t think I’m pregnant, do you?”

Mel nearly choked. “ _Now_ I do.”

“I’m not! I’m not!” Nat rushed to explain. “I swear I’m not pregnant.”

“Who’s pregnant?!” Phil called panicked. His face appeared at the door half a second later and he looked at Natasha. “Sweet Jesus, you’re _pregnant?”_

“No, I-,”

“Clint Barton you get your ass out here this second!”

“Phil,” Mel chastised, “you’ll wake Skye.”

“Dad-,” Nat tried.

Clint poked his head out of the door. “Huh?”

“You got her knocked up?” Phil growled.

Mel rubbed her temples as Clint went white. “I did what?” He looked to Natasha. “You’re-“

“No one is _pregnant!”_ Natasha shouted, and everyone fell quiet. “Right?” She looked between her parents and Clint. “I guarantee you, that as of right now, I am not with child. Okay?”

“Oh, thank the Lord.” Phil sighed. “I’m going back to bed before I have a panic attack.”

“Sorry, Daddy!” Nat called after him, and Phil gave a wave as he retreated into the room.

“I thought I was gonna puke.” Clint said.

“Me too.” Mel muttered. She honestly did feel like sick for a bit there.

“Let’s go back to bed.” Nat said to Clint and he ducked back into the room. Natasha hugged her mother again. “Sorry for scaring you.”

“You better be.” Mel kissed Nat on the forehead. “Night, Bubba. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mama.” Nat disappeared into her room, leaving Mel alone in the hallway.

She took a couple of seconds to compose herself after the little episode, but it was short-lived, when Skye’s bedroom door opened and a bleary eyed eight-year-old stepped out, Mr. Snow in hand. She had a wobbling bottom lip as she stumbled over to Melinda.

“There was shouting.” Skye mumbled and Mel leaned down to pick her up. The little girl automatically clung to her like a baby monkey, pressing her face into Melinda’s neck.

“It’s okay, baby.” She shushed, taking her back into her room.

“You were fighting.” Skye said. “It was scary.”

Melinda stopped on her journey to Skye’s bed, feeling overwhelmingly guilty that she had managed to scare Skye. How many times had Skye been awoken by shouting in both St Agnes’ and her foster homes? How many times had she woken up terrified in the middle of the night? Too many, she guessed.

“I’m so sorry we scared you.” Mel whispered back to Skye. “It wasn’t a real fight.” She tried to explain. “No one was _really_ mad.”

“Tasha shouted.” Skye said.

“I know. But no one is mad, okay? I promise.”

Skye lifted her head and Melinda was devastated to discover her cheeks were damp with tears. That settled it. There was no way Melinda was putting Skye back to bed on her own after they had all frightened her, even if it was unintentional and really quite ridiculous.

She stepped back out into the hall and closed Skye’s door. “How about you keep Phil and I company tonight?” Mel said.

Skye frowned. “I’m ‘posed to sleep in my own bed.”

Melinda had never said that once. It hadn’t ever been necessary, but apparently that was because someone else had drilled it into Skye’s mind.

“Tonight I think I want cuddles from my baby, though.” Mel smiled, kissing Skye’s cheek. “You want to come and sleep with me in my bed?”

Skye nodded eagerly, tightening her grip on Mel.

Melinda carried Skye back into her and Phil’s room. Phil was lying down in the bed, but he sat up when she walked in with Skye.

“Skye got woken up by the ruckus.” She explained, climbing into bed without leaving go of Skye. “So she’s going to sleep here tonight and give me cuddles, huh?”

Skye nodded. The little girl sat in the centre of the bed stiffly until Mel settled down on her side and patted the space next to her. At that, Skye snuggled into Melinda, thumb of one hand going into her mouth, and the other hand feeling around for Phil. He smiled and moved closer to Skye, until her little hand wrapped around his hand.

The little girl was asleep in seconds. Her hand continued to clutch Phil’s, and her nose pressed into Melinda’s chest.

Phil met Melinda’s eyes over the top of Skye’s head. “I love our kids.” He whispered. “I love them so much.”

“Me too.” She said quietly, nuzzling Skye’s hair.

“And I love you, Mel.”

She smirked at him. “Ditto.”

“Ditto?” He whispered. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Fine.” She grinned sleepily, placing a hand on top of where Phil’s and Skye’s were joined. “I love you, too.”


	10. Skye's In Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy. Thanks for all of the reviews on the last chapter!

Phil awoke to a silent house, but with a tiny pointy elbow in his face. For a second he was incredibly confused, because the face full of dark hair was usually courtesy of Melinda, but this person was much smaller.

Things began piecing themselves back together as sleep gave way to consciousness, and Phil remembered the family’s weird little argument that had ended up with Skye sharing their bed. Which was fine. She was like a little thermos lying in between him and a still sleeping Mel, making Phil overheat, but she was so cute cuddled up under their duvet, he hadn’t the heart to move her.

Phil had intended to watch his wife and daughter sleep for a little longer before dragging himself out of bed to shower, but a thud followed by a string of curses peaked his curiosity enough to get him up sooner. The thud had come from down the hall. Tasha and Clint’s room.

“ _Sorry.”_ Tash’s voice said. “ _Clint, I’m so sorry.”_

Phil got out of bed but stayed still by the closed bedroom door and listened.

“ _God, Nat.”_ That was Clint. “ _You got me good, baby.”_

Phil scrunched up his face. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anymore, but curiosity…well, maybe he hadn’t learned from what it did to the cat.

“ _I’m so sorry, Clint, I didn’t…here let me see…oh God, hang on I’ll go wake my dad. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Clint.”_

_“Tash, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”_

_“No, I’ll get Dad. I’m so sorry.”_

Phil opened the bedroom door and stepped out just as Natasha was racing down the hall in pyjamas, blood on her hands. Not wanting to wake Skye and Mel, Phil closed the door behind him and immediately began walking to Nat’s room.

“What’s happened?” He asked, eyeing her bloody hands. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, but I hurt Clint.” She said. Nat looked devastated. “Dad, I did not mean it. I…Daddy…” She was getting upset, which never bode well for anyone. Her accent was slipping though, getting stronger with each sentence.

“Natasha, calm down.” Phil gripped her shoulders and forced her to look at him, stopping their journey to her room. “It’s okay. I heard him complaining, so he’s probably not dying.” He smirked at his little attempt at humour, but the expression died when Nat failed to do anything more than look to her room with panic. “Okay, come on, honey. Let’s see the damage.”

Natasha jogged the last few steps to her room and barged in, running straight over to Clint, who Phil saw, was sat on the floor, propped up by the dresser, seemingly attempting to stem the bleeding from his nose. Phil crossed the room and kneeled down in front of Clint, taking the young man’s chin in his hand.

“What happened?” He asked, inspecting Clint’s nose gently.

“S’nothing.” Clint said.

“I punched him…I think.” Nat held Clint’s hand tightly, but from what Phil could see, it was Clint attempting to soothe Nat more than anything else.

“She was having a nightmare.” Clint explained, wincing slightly when Phil put a little too much pressure on the bridge. “But it wasn’t your fault, Tash.”

“How can you say that? I _hit_ you.” She gasped.

“In your sleep. You were having a bad dream.” Clint lowered his voice and Phil pretended not to hear what he said next, spending longer than necessary inspecting his face. “We both have them, Nat. It’s okay. You take care of me and I take care of you, right.”

“Right.” Nat said quietly. “But I still punched you.”

“Actually,” Clint looked to Phil, “she gave me a really strong backhand when I tried to wake her up and I fell out the bed.”

Clint was hurt and Natasha was devastated that she had caused the injury, and Phil probably should have been more sensitive to the situation, but the mental images of Natasha basically slapping Clint out of bed was too much to handle and he burst out laughing. Clint smiled, too, despite the blood still running into his mouth, and even Nat gave a little twitch of her lips.

“Sorry.” Phil apologised. “But you’re fine. Not broken, just bleeding.”

Nat visibly relaxed and kissed Clint on the cheek, avoiding the blood. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it, Tash. I’m fine.” Clint smiled in what Phil assumed was meant to be a reassuring way, but the blood in his teeth dampened the affect. “Phil’s an expert first aider. He knows his stuff.”

“I do.” Phil said, standing up. He pulled Clint to his feet, taking another look at the nose that finally seemed to have stopped bleeding. “I know lots of stuff.” He looked to Natasha. “Like maybe this was a sign that you two shouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed? Huh?” He grinned at them. “How about separate beds on opposite sides of the house? Doesn’t that sound _awesome_?”

Both kids looked at him with disbelieving looks. Nat raised a single eyebrow and smirked at him, now that she knew Clint was okay.

“I don’t think that’s what the sign was, Dad.” She said.

Phil sighed. “Was worth a try.” He patted Clint on the shoulder and wrapped an arm around Nat, kissing her cheek. “You okay, honey?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“You need to talk about the dream?”

“No. Dad. I don’t want to.” Nat said.

“That’s fine.” Phil pulled away from her. “But you know, both of you, can come to me, or Mel anytime-,”

“To talk about anything.” Nat finished for him with a smirk. “We _know_. But thank you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Clint said sincerely. It wasn’t often he used the label without teasing, but Phil didn’t comment on it, just smiled.

“Right, you guys. We’re going to the gym to do various important work-related things, and I was wondering if you’d watch Skye there for a while? Maybe take her to play with the other kids in the youth gym.”

Nat’s face lit up. “Yes. We can do that.”

“Yep. I’m up for hanging with the kids.” Clint agreed.

“Great. Thanks.” Phil said. “Skye loves you guys, you know. Just remember that. She’s never had a lot of people to rely on.”

“She’s got us, now, Dad.” Nat said. “I promise.”

“Good. Now go take a shower.” He waved in the general direction of the two kids still covered in blood.

“Sure thing.” Clint said.

Phil walked out of the bedroom with the intention of taking his own shower when the sound of Nat’s giggling reached his ears and he felt the need to clarify something. “ _Separate_ showers.” He called through the door. “As in ‘ _not together’._ ”

 _“Yes, Dad.”_ Clint called bad, the teasing having returned in full force.

…

Usually when Skye woke up it was because either Mel or Phil were waking her for school. They turned on her light and opened her curtains, and sometimes when she was very sleepy and didn’t want to wake up, Melinda would tickle her so that she _had_ to wake up. But today was different.

Skye remembered being frightened when she was woken up by shouting. And she remembered Melinda bringing her into her and Phil’s room to sleep. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but Skye knew that’s where she was, in Mel and Phil’s bed. It smelt a bit different then hers but still felt safe and warm.

“You waking up, beautiful?” Mel asked.

Skye opened her eyes and blinked up at her. Mel was smiling, sitting up in bed and stroking Skye’s hair. She was still a little too sleepy to talk, so Skye just cuddled back into Melinda and put her thumb into her mouth.

“Ah ah.” Mel pulled Skye’s hand away from her mouth and she couldn’t help but give a little whine of protest. “Nope. No thumb sucking when it’s time to wake up. We’ve things to do, places to be. We can’t go back to sleep.”

“Mm. Want to though.” Skye argued lamely, mostly for the sake of delaying getting up, because she knew she would never win.

“Sorry, baby. Time to get up.” Melinda tickled her sides a little, making Skye squirm. “Are you getting up? Is it working?”

“Yes. _Yes.”_ Skye laughed, sitting up and brushing off the covers. “See. I’m awake now.”

“Good. Come on let’s get up.” Melinda made to get out of the bed, but Skye stopped her when she noticed something.

“Where’s Phil?”

“He’s-,” Mel began, but was interrupted by the bedroom door opening and Phil walking in. “He’s there.” She frowned. “And he’s apparently been involved in an incident.”

Skye gasped at the blood on Phil’s hands. “You’re hurt.” She said, and felt herself getting upset. “Mel, Phil’s hurt.”

“I’m _fine.”_ Phil said, but Skye didn’t believe him. He had blood on him. He was hurt.

“No you’re not.” Skye argued. “There’s blood.”

“Skye.” Phil said and held up his bloody hands. “Listen, sweetie, it’s fine. It’s not _my_ blood.”

Melinda shifted next to Skye on the bed and the little girl felt herself being pulled backwards until her back was against the headboard. Mel climbed of the bed and walked over to Phil.

“Then whose blood is it?” Melinda asked.

Phil glanced in Skye’s direction. “Everyone’s fine, okay.” He said, then looked back to Mel. “Nat had a nightmare.” He said it really quietly, like he didn’t want Skye to hear, but she heard anyway.

“I don’t like nightmares.” Skye said.

“No,” Phil smiled, “neither does Natasha, and she got pretty scared and _accidentally_ hit Clint in the face. Gave him a bloody nose.” Skye didn’t think it was very funny, but Phil was laughing and that was making Melinda smile. “He’s fine. They’re both fine, but she came and got me when it happened.”

“Is Clint’s nose okay?” Skye asked. She’s had a bloody nose more than once because someone had hit her. It wasn’t a very nice feeling.

“He’s fine, Skye.” Phil assured her.

“He’s tough.” Melinda said. “He’ll be okay.”

Phil went into the ensuite and Mel followed. They were talking, but Skye’s couldn’t hear over the sound of running water. Skye had once given someone a bloody nose. By accident, like Natasha. The girls in her room at the orphanage had been pinning her to the ground and spitting on her, and Skye had kicked out her leg and hit one of them in the face. Even though they had been being mean to her, Skye had still felt _really_ bad.

She jumped off the bed and went into the bathroom. Melinda was stilling on the closed toilet seat while Phil washed his hands.

“Is Natasha okay?” Skye asked.

Phil dried his clean hands off on a towel and crouched down in front of Skye. “Is Nat okay?” He repeated her question.

“Yeah. You said Clint’s nose was okay. But is Natasha okay?” Both adults looked as though they didn’t quite understand what Skye was getting at, so she attempted to clarify. “Because she might feel bad that she hurt him. I don’t want her to feel bad. ‘Specially if it wasn’t her fault.”

“She was a little upset.” Phil said. “But once she knew Clint was okay, she felt okay, too.”

Skye nodded. “So she’s good, though?”

“Yes.” Phil smiled. “You’re really worried about her, huh?”

Skye was. She nodded.

“Don’t worry, okay.” Phil said. “Nat’s fine. Clint’s fine. Okay?”

“Kay.” Skye said. She trusted that Phil was telling her the truth, but she would make sure herself later, just to be absolutely positive.

…

Nat’s mom and dad had driven them all to the gym, but both had made themselves scarce up in the offices, presumably doing paperwork or other things Nat really couldn’t care less about. It had left Nat, Clint and Skye to entertain themselves.

“You wanna go play in the youth gym?” Clint asked Skye. He swung their hands where Skye’s little one was wrapped up in his.

Natasha had noticed how when they had left the car the little girl had automatically glued herself to at least one of them. Since both her mom and dad had gone upstairs, Skye had held a strong grip on Nat and Clint. It occurred to Natasha that this was probably the first time since moving in that Skye had been left without the company of her parents, apart from when she was at school. Natasha stroked a thumb over the back of Skye’s hand.

“What’s youth gym?” Skye asked looking up at Clint. He was beginning to get a little bruising under one of his eyes, all purple and blue, for which Natasha felt endlessly guilty, despite him insisting he was fine.

Clint’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Skye, it’s _awesome._ ” He grinned. “They’ve got the best toys. Right, Nat?”

Skye looked over to her, and Tasha nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Mom and Dad set it up so kids can play there while their parents are in the actual gym.”

“It’s so cool.” Clint smiled. “Let’s go check out what they’re doing.” He pulled them in the direction of the youth gym, chattering on to Skye about the various pieces of equipment they had.

Natasha liked the youth gym just fine. Not as much as Clint, but he was a kid at heart and loved nothing more than joining in with all of the activities they had going on. The past few summers had seen her parents giving Clint and Nat summer jobs in the gym, and Clint did all he could to wing his way into a job with the youth gym.

Technically she was too old to attend, as was Clint. Youth gym was not really a gym at all, just a massive extension to the main building that acted more like a short-term camp, with various clubs and activities for kids of all ages up to sixteen, but being the daughter of the gym owners had it’s benefits and she and Clint had often found themselves playing ‘round robin’ with groups of kids while at the gym. As they arrived at the main sports hall, Nat could see it wasn’t a ‘round robin’ kind of day. Most of the kids seemed to be kicking soccer balls around, shooting at mini-goals and dribbling them through cones.

“Awesome, soccer.” Clint grinned. “You like soccer Skye?” He asked.

Skye looked wearily at the many children running around the hall and Natasha didn’t miss the way her grip on her hand tightened.

“Um, I’m not sure. I think so, maybe.” A stray ball rolled over towards Skye, but she stepped away from it.

Clint kicked it back to the little girl from whom the ball had escaped. “You wanna go play?” He was itching to join in, eyeing the group of kids attempting keepy-ups at the far side of the hall.

“No. I just…” Skye looked up at Natasha. “I don’t wanna go play.”

“That’s okay.” Natasha said. “Why don’t we just watch for a little while? While Clint goes and plays.”

Skye nodded.

Clint looked at her in question. “You sure. I don’t mind sitting with you guys if-,”

“Go. Go on.” Nat said. “You show those kids how it’s done. We’ll watch.”

“Okay. But you come over and join in anytime, okay, Skye?”

“Kay.”

He ran off to join the group of kids in the far end, immediately finding his place as a leader amongst the kids. Not for the first time Natasha thought Clint would make a good teacher. The kids were shouting after him, all vying for his attention. As much as Clint preferred his own company to large crowds generally, it seemed to be different when it came to interacting with kids.

Natasha suspected he didn’t quite understand how terrifying this all must seem to Skye. Nat _got_ it. She had been thrust into school having known no one and knowing very little English and it had been frightening. Although this was not the same by any stretch of the imagination, this unfamiliar territory with unfamiliar people would be frightening to Skye.

She led her little sister over to the benches and the two sat down side-by-side. Skye leaned into her a little and Natasha put her arm around her shoulders.

They watched Clint attempting and failing to do soccer tricks for a few minutes, much to the amusement of Skye, who giggled every time Clint failed a trick and overdramatically threw himself to the ground to make the kids laugh.

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream, Tasha.” Skye said suddenly, her eyes still following Clint.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Nat said. She had assumed someone had told Skye _something_ to explain Clint’s growing black eye, but she hadn’t been aware of either her mother or father telling her about her nightmare.

“Bad dreams are scary.” Skye said.

“Yeah, they are.”

“And that’s why you hit Clint on accident. ‘Cos you got scared.”

“Yeah.” Nat swallowed. “Yes.”

“But,” Skye turned to her and smiled, “s’okay ‘cos it was an accident.”

Nat nodded. “But I still feel guilty.”

Skye looked at her in a way that Natasha had only seen a few times before, mostly from Clint and her mother, and occasionally Bobbi- just like she _completely_ understood everything she was feeling.

Skye reached up to pet Natasha’s hair, a little awkwardly with how much shorter she was than her, but the gesture was so sweet that Tasha found herself straining not to well up. “Don’t feel bad, Tasha.” Skye continued her head pets. To an outsider it probably looked comical. “It was an accident and Clint still loves you. Don’t feel bad.”

“I’ll try my best.” She promised.

“Good.” Skye smiled and stood up. “I think I might want to play now.”

Nat blinked at the quick change in pace and took Skye’s offered hand. “Okay. What would you like to do?”

Skye took a good look around the room, then began pulling Natasha over to where Clint was, waiting at the back of the line to kick a ball into a soccer goal. “I wanna do this.”

Clint saw them coming and grinned. “Hey! You coming to join in?”

“Yeah.” Skye plucked the last ball out of a large bin by Clint. “Tasha, you can share with me.”

“Thanks, Skye.” She smiled. “But I think I’m just going to watch.”

Skye shrugged, and turned back to face the front of the line, still holding onto her hand.

Clint moved to let Skye go in front of him in the line and came to stand behind Natasha. “She okay?” He whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek as he said it.

“Yeah. My dad must have told her about this morning, though. She was worried.” Nat whispered.

“About me?” Clint asked.

“About me.” Nat said. “She doesn’t want me to feel guilty.”

Clint smiled and wrapped his arms around Natasha’s waist, resting his head on her shoulder. “Skye and I seem to have the same opinion. You know I’d still love you even if you punched me in the face every morning.”

“I _shouldn’t_ be hitting you in my sleep though. It’s not fair on you.”

“Come off it, Nat.” He shuffled them forward as Skye got closer to the front of the line. “I’ve totally kicked you in my sleep because of a nightmare. We’re just as bad as each other.”

She couldn’t disagree with him there. He may have never bloodied her nose in his sleep, but Tasha had received her fair share of shin bruising from his disturbed dreams. And she supposed she’d never once wanted him to even feel a morsel of guilt.

“We deserve each other.” She smirked and turned her head to kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sleep-ninja.”

Skye tugged on Nat’s hand until she looked at her. She was at the front of the line, chewing on her lip nervously.

“What’s up?” Nat asked.

“If I take my turn, you’ll still be here, right?” Skye asked. “You won’t leave me?”

“No, of course not.” Natasha’s grip on Skye’s hand got tighter, the exact opposite of what Skye _actually_ required at this moment in time, but she needed her little sister to know that she was never going to disappear on her. She let go of Skye’s hand. “Go on. Take your turn and we’ll wait right here. I promise.”

Skye gently placed her soccer ball down on the mark and took her shot at the goal. The little boy playing goalie caught it, but she didn’t seem to care, running over to get the ball off him and grinning from ear to ear.

“Did you guys see how hard I kicked it?” She asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as they made their way back to the back of the line.

“I did.” Clint laughed. “You’re a real Messi.”

Skye looked at him blankly and Nat didn’t blame her. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“No?” Clint said. “Nothing? Okay then.” He looked back down at Skye. “I just meant you were good.”

“Cool.” Skye said.

“Cool.” Clint agreed.

Natasha and Clint watched at Skye took four, five, six more tries at kicking the ball into the goal. Gradually they moved further away, less of a conscious decision and more to allow the other kids to join onto the line without being in the way. Although Skye watched them closely, she seemed content with knowing they were sat over by the benches, and Nat felt a little pride swell in her heart when she saw Skye chatting to some of the other kids amicably.

“Hey, look, our little sis is making friends.” Clint said.

“She is.” Nat smiled.

“She’s more sociable than you are.” He smirked, and Nat felt his body brace for the punch she gave to his arm.

“Shut up.” She smirked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Clint blew a raspberry into her neck, making Nat squirm. He stopped abruptly. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Nat asked, and followed his gaze to Skye.

“That kid just took her ball.” He said.

Natasha watched as a young boy, bigger than Skye but still just a kid, held Skye’s ball over her head, laughing as he taunted her. She stood up and began to storm over, with the full intention to teach the little bully a lesson, but Clint held her back.

“Nat, you can’t _hit_ him. The kid’s like ten.” Clint warned.

Tasha bristled at his touch. “He’s being mean to Skye.” She’d _promised_ look after Skye and now some punk was bullying her.

Skye was asking for the ball back. Nat could hear her, asking over and over again “Please, give me it back.” Skye getting more and more frustrated each time she asked.

The boy held the ball out to Skye and she reached for it, but at the last second the kid rammed it into Skye’s chest, causing her to fall backwards. Both Nat _and_ Clint rushed forwards at that, but Skye was up quickly, charging towards the boy.

“Go get him, Skye.” Nat called.

Skye turned to look at her and nodded, determination set on her little face.

“Hit him!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Nat knew she’d said a bad thing. Clint’s grip on her shoulder tightened and he shouted after Skye.

“Do _not_ hit him, Skye!”

Whether Skye took Clint’s advice to heart or not was difficult to tell because although she didn’t hit the boy, she _did_ kick him hard in the shin, twice, until he fell himself, and dropped the ball at her feet.

“She kicked me!” The boy shouted, and many of the kids stopped their playing to look over at the incident. Nat felt guilt bubbling up in her chest. This was _her_ fault.

“Yeah.” Skye said, less confident and more surprised. She stood over the boy a moment, looked over to Nat and Clint with a worried expression, then back at the boy. “Don’t take my stuff. Kay.”

For all of the effort she had gone through to get the ball back, Skye dropped it as she ran over to Clint and Natasha. The little girl ploughed into Nat, wrapping her arms around her waist and burying her face into her stomach.

“I did a bad thing.” Skye mumbled, and Natasha could only bite her lip and hug her back, because, yeah, she had done something bad and it had been all Nat’s fault.

“Mom’s going to kill me.” She mumbled.

Clint rubbed her back. “Oh, yeah.”

…

Melinda wanted to be spending her Saturday with her two youngest daughters, but apparently the world had other ideas and she was holed up in her office discussing serious business matters with Tony Stark. For a man who appeared at first glance to be a four-year-old in a forty-year-old’s body, the man could actually turn business pretty quickly. But that’s how he was a billionaire, she supposed.

“I’m talking all the treadmills, replaced across the centre, _and_ twenty five new ones for the new gym, all for fifty grand.” Tony sat on the other side of Mel’s desk, hands clasped over some paperwork.

“No. No way, Stark.” Mel said. She knew that it was a good deal. Stark’s equipment was in another league and each piece of tech was probably worth over five thousand dollars retail, and he was offering her a good price, but she knew the drill. Haggle for all it’s worth. “Thirty.”

“No way, Mel. I’d be losing out.” Tony shook his head. “Forty-five. Final offer. And I get to keep the old treadmills to resell.”

She’d been betting on that. They didn’t have room to house the old ones _and_ the new ones. “Forty. You keep the old ones and throw in some of that new software for the computers.”

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. Mel just watched.

“Come on, Stark. Our kids are friends.” She grinned. “They’re spies together, or haven’t you heard?”

“Yeah,” He smiled. “I’ve been hearing all about little miss ‘Agent Skye’. Fine.” Stark nodded. “Forty thou, new software, and I get the old mills for resale.” He held out his hand and they shook on it.

“Nice doing business with you, Mr. Stark.” Melinda said. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word with your girlfriend when I take Skye to school on Monday.”

“Thanks.” He laughed. “I’m actually in the dog house as we speak because I let Grant play with a car battery. Apparently that’s not classified as a,” he held up air quotes, “‘child-friendly toy’.”

Mel shook her head at him. “No, no it’s not.”

“I don’t see the problem. I was creating my own lithium batteries to power my friends’ dirt bikes when I was ten. Anyway, Grant loved it and he was _fine._ ”

She rolled her eyes. “Listen to Pepper, Tony. You’ve got a lot to learn about parenting.”

Tony smirked. “Oh, as if _you’re_ an expert.” He teased.

“Actually, I kind of am.” She bantered back.

Melinda’s office door opened and the apologetic face of Maria Hill appeared in her doorway. “Sorry to interrupt-,”

“What’s happened?” Mel interrupted, already standing from her desk. That expression on Maria always meant _something_ had happened.

Maria sighed. “There’s been a complaint from a parent of a ‘violent child’ in the youth gym.”

“Uh-oh.” Tony said. “Sounds like we need Melly to hand out some expert parenting advice.”

“Don’t call me that.” Mel flicked the billionaire’s ear. “Any kid we know?” She asked Maria.

“Uh…it’s Skye.” Maria said with a grimace.

“Melly, maybe you need a little more practice, huh?” Tony said, spinning around in his chair.

Melinda just sighed and took a moment to compose herself, following Maria out of the office and towards where she expected to find her children. Words were going to be had.

…

Skye hadn’t meant to hurt the boy.

Actually, that was lie.

In the moment, Skye’s full intention had been to hurt him. He’d taken her ball and he’d been teasing her, and then Natasha had said to hit him and Clint had said not to, and then Skye had been so mad with the boy that she had just kicked him. She’d kicked him really hard.

As soon as she had done it, Skye knew she had been bad. The boy was properly hurt. His leg was bleeding, like Clint’s nose had been that morning, except this hadn’t been an accident. He was crying. _Really_ crying, not fake crying and Skye had lived in the orphanage for eight years so she was an _expert_ on spotting fake tears. His were real. She felt sick. Skye had _hurt_ him.

The boy’s mommy had been really mad and she had shouted at Skye. Called Skye ‘violent’ and ‘vicious’. Skye didn’t want to be any of those things and she got upset and no matter how hard she tried not to cry, she couldn’t help it because even Natasha looked upset.

Skye didn’t want Natasha to be sad.

They stood in one of the back rooms of the gym. Someone Skye didn’t know was putting a band-aid on the boy’s leg. The man kept looking over at Skye while he cleaned the blood of the boy’s leg. She thought maybe Natasha and Clint knew him, because he kept catching both of their eyes.

The boy’s mommy was saying mean things to them. “It’s a disgrace.” She said to Natasha. “Letting a little brat in a place like this. I pay good money to come here and to have my son attend and look what I get for it! She should be locked up!”

Clint scoffed at the woman. “Exaggerate much?”

“She’s a little delinquent.” The women spat.

“Hey, your son is not exactly all sunshine and rainbows either.” Natasha was shouting too. She was saying her words funny, with a different accent. “He hurts my sister, she hurt him. Simple. Is over now.”

“Nat.” Clint said it really quietly, but Natasha stopped shouting anyway.

The boy’s mom stepped towards Skye. She was scary and for a second Skye thought she might hit her for hurting her son, but then Clint lifted her off her feet and held Skye in his arms so no one could hut her. Even if she did probably deserve it.

The door opened and Skye’s heart sank. Melinda walked into the room. Her friend Maria was stood behind her.

“I’m sorry.” Skye said automatically, but Melinda gave no indication that she had heard her.

“Trip, please escort Mrs Buldger and her son to Phil’s office. Maria will go with you.” Mel turned to the boy’s mom. “Mrs Buldger I am so sorry for your terrible experience today, but if you’ll follow Mr Triplett and Miss Hill, you will be able to air anything you wish in an open discussion with Mr Coulson.”

The woman huffed and glared at Skye, still in Clint’s arms, but took her son’s hand and followed Trip and Maria out of the room. The door closed and room fell silent. Skye watched quietly as Melinda sat down in the only chair in the room, folded her arms and blinked at them.

“Go.” She said.

“It wasn’t Skye’s fault.” Both Clint and Natasha said at the same time.

They looked at each other, then back to Melinda, and Skye could only frown in confutation.

“It was not her fault.” Natasha said. “Mama, it was not her fault.”

Skye shook her head. “Yes it was. I kicked him.” The tears pricked at her eyes again. “I- I kicked him. I’m sorry.” They began rolling down her cheeks. “I was bad. I’m sorry.”

“I told her to.” Natasha said. “Mom, the boy was being mean to her and I told her to hit him.”

Skye didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t Natasha’s fault. No one had _forced_ her to hurt the boy, Skye had done it all on her own. Natasha didn’t want Skye to get into trouble, but Skye felt the same way about her big sister.

“Listen.” Melinda said. “I know this probably all started being the fault of that boy, but bad decisions were made here.” She wasn’t shouting, like Skye had expected, but Melinda had her ‘serious voice’ on. “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed in you.” She looked between Natasha and Skye. “Both of you.”

“That’s way worse than you being mad.” Natasha said.

“Then make better choices next time, Natasha.” Mel stood up. “You’re a big sister now. You’re an adult. You need to be a good example.”

Natasha looked down. “I know.” She said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Melinda hugged Natasha, which Skye thought was kind of weird. She’d expected Mel to, well, Skye wasn’t really sure, but hugging had been her last guess when Mel said she was disappointed.

“Remember.” Mel said to Natasha. “When you feel yourself getting angry you just need to stop and _think_. Especially now, Tasha.” She kissed her head and stepped away. Melinda looked at Clint. “Give me Skye. You two can go help in the offices for the rest of the day. There’s some files in your Dad’s office that need alphabetised. Stay there until someone comes and gets you.”

“Yes, Mom.” Nat said.

“Yes, Mel.” Clint said, and put Skye down on her feet. Both he and Nat gave her little smiles before they left the room, and that made Skye feel much better.

Melinda got down onto her knees. “I know you’re sorry.”

“I am.” Skye said.

“I know. But we need to talk about what happened. Skye, you understand that you _cannot_ hurt someone because you don’t like what they are doing.”

Skye frowned. “But he was being mean to me.”

“And that was wrong of him.” Mel agreed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “But that does not make it right for you to hurt him, even if Natasha got upset and said it was.”

“I’m in trouble.” Skye concluded. “Big trouble.”

Melinda sighed. “You’re not in _big_ trouble. But I think we might need to start having more conversations about what is right and wrong.”

“I _know_ what’s right and wrong.” Skye said. “I just…forget sometimes.”

“And we can work on that.” Mel smiled. “But for now, I think you have some apologising to do. Do you agree?”

Skye looked at her shoes. “Yes. Are you disappointed with me?” She asked. Natasha thought that was worse than being mad.

“I am.” Melinda said. She looked kind of sad when she said it, and Skye suddenly understood _why_ Tasha would rather she was angry.

Melinda being disappointed made Skye want to start crying again.

“M’sorry.” Skye said, snivelling.

“I’m disappointed with your decisions, but baby,” Mel said, stroking her cheek, “I still love you. That doesn’t change.”

Skye’s eyes widened. “You love me?”

Mel swallowed. “I do.”

“Are you sure?” Skye felt the need to clarify. She had just been _really_ bad. Why on earth would Melinda want to love her now?

Melinda smiled. “Very sure, Skye. I love you. I’ll love you no matter what you do. Just like I’ll always love Nat or Bobbi no matter what decisions they make. I just want you to be happy, and I know making a bad choice today isn’t making you happy.”

She was right. Skye didn’t feel happy about hurting the boy, even if it had got her ball back.

“Hey,” Mel said. She pulled Skye close for a hug, and Skye hugged her back tightly. “I love you.” She said.

Skye held onto Melinda’s shirt. “I love you, too.”

Mel kissed her nose and smiled. She swallowed again, hard enough that Skye could really see her throat move.

“Come on, then.” Melinda stood up and took Skye’s hand. “You can go and say sorry to Mrs Buldger and her son.”

As they walked towards the offices, Skye began feeling a lot better. She still felt really guilty about hurting the boy, even if he wasn’t a very nice boy, but Melinda hadn’t shouted at her. That’s what she’d been most scared of.

Melinda loved her. And Skye loved Mel. It felt nice.

…

It had been a long day of paperwork, Tony Stark, and then being screamed at by Mrs Buldger until he offered her three months free membership in apology for Skye hurting her son. Phil wasn’t supposed to take sides, but the whole time Mrs Buldger had been in his office, her irritating son had kicked his desk leg and been slyly shooting him the middle finger, apparently having got over his ordeal. Phil had begun to see why the kid had riled up his daughters so much.

Really, after that day, he was just happy to get home. Nat had been particularly quiet the rest of the day and in the car ride home. And Skye had just been exceptionally clingy to Melinda, enough that she had been forced to sit in the back with Nat and Skye while Clint rode up front.

“You guys want takeout?” Phil asked, putting the key in the front door. “Unless anyone wants to cook?” A round of groans met his question and Phil took that as a yes to takeout. “Alright then.” He said, stepping back to allow the family to enter the house before him.

He pulled the front door shut behind him, and followed the rest of his family into the living room, inspecting the mail as he went. Frowning at one piece of mail in particular, Phil asked, “When did we sign up for ‘Lego magazine’?”

“Oh, that’s mine.” Clint said, plucking it out of his hands. The two of them walked together, both looking at the Lego spaceship on the cover. “It’s the sci-fi issue.”

Phil, too preoccupied with Clint’s Lego obsession, collided with Melinda who had stopped walking abruptly.

“Mel? What’s up?”

Phil need not have asked, as half a second later Natasha squealed and ran across the living room towards the stairs. Phil stepped around Melinda and Skye, and watched as Nat flung herself at her big sister.

Bobbi stood at the far end of the room, hugging her younger sister and grinning madly. “Miss me?” She laughed.

Phil blinked, just in case the stress of the day was causing him to hallucinate, but there she was, his eldest daughter. She rushed forward to hug her mother next, and Skye attached herself to Phil’s leg. He was torn between seeing his eldest daughter, whom he hadn’t seen in person for _months_ and comforting his youngest.

“You know who this is?” Phil asked, lifting Skye into his arms. He kissed her cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck but didn’t hide like he’d expected, instead watching Bobbi and Melinda’s interaction with curiosity.

“That’s Bobbi.” Skye said. She looked at him with a tiny frown. “I thought she was in England.”

Phil shrugged and smiled brightly when Bobbi caught his eye. “Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Bobbi's home! Yay!


	11. Skye's Sister, Bobbi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys. I hope you enjoy. :)

_….An hour or so earlier…._

“Are you sure breaking into your parents house is a good idea?” Hunter asked, nervously looking around the backyard. “I mean, we’ve only been married three and a half weeks. I haven’t even got a green card yet.”

Bobbi rolled her eyes and continued her excursion up the side of the house towards the open window, using the kitchen window ledge for leverage. “Stop being a wuss, Hunter.” She grunted, getting an elbow up on the upper bedroom window.

“It’s alright for you, love.” Hunter called up after her. “It’s your parents’ house. It’ll be me who gets arrested and deported. Think about that, Bobbi.” He said. “Your own husband being _deported.”_

“At least if you were deported I wouldn’t have to listen to you whining.” She countered, pulling the window open enough to clamber up and into the room.

“Oh, charming.” She heard him mumble.

As proud as she was for scaling the side of her Mom and Dad’s house, not for the first time, Bobbi had to admit her entrance into the bedroom via the window was less than graceful and she ended up with a face full of carpet and a sizable friction burn on one knee.

“Bob?” Hunter called from his position on the patio. “You alright, love?”

Bobbi sat up and rubbed at her knee. “Yeah.” She shouted back, peeking her head out of the window. “Give me a minute, I’ll come down and let you in the back door.”

Hunter gave her a thumbs up.

Bobbi looked around the room she had climbed into. The last time she had been home, the room had been almost empty, containing the family’s junk and housing most of her dad’s Captain America memorabilia. Now the room appeared to be used, well loved. The walls had been pained and a new rug put down. All new furniture had been moved in, and Bobbi noticed, smiling to herself, that the little girl to whom she assumed this room now belonged, had decorated the dresser with various little trinkets.

Deciding it wouldn’t do Hunter any harm to hang out in the yard for a little longer, Bobbi took the time to inspect the random array of items on the dresser. A coin, a screw, a pebble and a shell had been arranged in the centre of the dresser. Bobbi picked up the shell and turned it over in her hands, rubbing her thumb over the hole in it. She replaced it on the dresser, making sure to place it in the exact manner she had found it.

Her eyes drifted over to a small flower-shaped plastic container filled with various colours of beads and cord. The label on the top declared it to be a ‘Jewellery Making Kit’, and although it seemed as though it had never been opened, a woven bracelet lay next to it.

“Oi! Bobbi! Are you going to let me in, or what? It’s bloody freezing out here.” Hunter’s voice broke her from her musings.

“Okay, okay.” She shouted back. “I’m coming.”

Bobbi took one last look around the bedroom, then left, closing the door behind her. She frowned at the blank wood and made a mental note to get her new little sister a sign to put on her door.

When she reached the back door, Hunter was lounging on the patio, sitting on one of their suitcases and blowing on his hands. He jumped up when Bobbi opened the door and dragged their luggage inside.

“Christ, Bob. I thought I was gonna get hyperthermia.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “We’re in Illinois, not Antarctica.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Hunter mumbled, shouldering the door closed.

“Anyway,” Bobbi smirked, “I thought people from England had a better tolerance for the cold?”

“Only if the place you’re visiting isn’t colder than a witch’s tit.”

“You’re living here now.” Bobbi smiled. “So you better get used to it.”

“Oh yeah.” Hunter said, sidling up to her. “Well, my darlin’, you better get used to this.” He thrust his bare, freezing hands up under her shirt to touch her belly.

Bobbi screamed and jumped away from him. “I _hate_ you.”

“No you don’t.” He said, far too smug for his own good. “You wouldn’t have married me if you hate me.”

He had her there. Bobbi rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Lance.”

“Nice comeback, _Barbara_.”

She slapped him across the back of the head.

“Ow! Bobbi! This is spousal abuse.” Even as he said it Hunter was crossing the short distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cold nose into her shoulder. “It’s a good job I love you, you demonic hell beast.”

Bobbi smiled and stroked the back of his head. “I love you, too, you asshole.”

He kissed her neck and pulled back slightly to look her in the eye. “Y’know, it’s come to my attention that calling your significant other by an abusive nickname is not the healthy way to act in a relationship.”

Bobbi cocked an eyebrow at him and he shrugged.

“I’ve been unemployed for the last two weeks. Been watching a lot of daytime television. Lots of Jeremy Kyle.”

“The quicker we get you to work, the better.” She decided. “I’m sure my Dad will give you a job if you just ask.”

He groaned. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know you don’t want to be a mooch, but my parents wouldn’t see it that way. You’ve worked for them before.” She argued.

“That was different, Bobbi. I was a kid who needed money in between uni semesters. I’m a grown man, now.”

“You asked for a colouring book on the plane ride here.”

“I was bored!”

“Whatever. How about, if you don’t find a job within the month, you ask my parents?”

“Bob-,”

“Lance, we don’t have anywhere to live yet. We have like thirty seven dollars in our bank account-,”

“Blame the exchange rate.”

“And Izzy isn’t coming over for another two weeks, meaning I won’t be being paid for another two weeks. We’ll be mooching off my parents _anyway_. At least for a little while.”

Hunter leaned his head on her shoulder. “It was your choice to cut our losses and come here early. I know _I_ got sacked, but you could have had two more weeks of pay.”

She snorted. “As if you could wait to meet Skye any more than I could.”

“Fair point.” He kissed her cheek. “Speaking of. Where do you think they’ve dragged the little munchkin off to, then, eh? I had assumed that we wouldn’t have had to break into their house.”

Bobbi shrugged, even though she could make a perfectly apt guess. “Gym probably.” It was usually where her parents were ninety-nine per cent of the time they weren’t at home. “And judging from the quiet, I assume they’ve taken Nat and Clint with them.”

“Call me crazy, love, but why didn’t we just tell your mum and dad we were coming?” Hunter asked.

“Because it wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?” She said obviously.

“Right.” Hunter chuckled, pulling away. “We taking these upstairs now, or…” He nodded at their suitcases.

They’d packed as much of their stuff from their London apartment as they could into the bags, and Bobbi just hoped her parents would be forthcoming when she told them they had twenty more boxes back in England that needed shipped over to the US. The more she thought about it, the more Bobbi thought that maybe she should have given her parents a heads-up for their arrival. She had kind of just assumed they wouldn’t mind her and Lance staying with them until they got back on their feet. Bobbi felt a little sick when she realised with a new little one for her parents to care for, her assumptions may have been a little off the mark.

“Bob?” Hunter touched her chin. “You alright? Back to earth?” He said gently. She’d always had a habit of going quiet, spacing out when she was thinking.

“Yeah. Sorry.” She said.

“Suitcases?” Lance said. “Upstairs?”

“Er…yeah. Yeah.” Bobbi nodded. “Here I’ll help. Put them in my old room.”

Between them, Hunter and Bobbi dragged the luggage up the stairs and down the hall to Bobbi’s old room.

As much as the bedroom was referred to as ‘Bobbi’s _old_ room’, there was still a fair amount of evidence in the room to whom it belonged, not even including the home-made plaque still donning the door which declared:

_Bobbi Morse-Coulson’s Room_

_Knock Before Entering_

_(Even You, Tash)_

“I thought your dad was going to make this room into a gym.” Hunter said, looking around at the remainder of Bobbi’s teenage belongings still residing in the room.

She considered him with a silent glare to see if he picked up on the stupidity of his question. Hunter picked up a pencil holder from the desk, inspected it and put it back down. Apparently not.

“You thought my Dad, who _owns a gym,_ was going to turn my old bedroom into a gym?”

Lance opened his mouth, frowned, and closed it again. “Maybe I made that up.” He mused.

She snorted and began unzipping one of the cases. “I told Dad he could use it as an office, because the window faces out front and I though he might like that when he’s working at home, but,” Bobbi shrugged, pulling one of Hunter’s shirts out of the case, “I guess he didn’t want to.”

“Which is good.” Hunter said, sitting on the bed. “Because then where would we sleep?” He stretched out on top of the covers (Bobbi’s old Captain America ones that her Dad had bought her for a joke but she had ended up using for years anyway) and put his hands behind his head. “We’d have to stay in the dreaded guest room.” He scrunched his face up. “So un-homely.”

“Un-homely?” Bobbi smirked.

Lance glared at her. “I appreciate feeling like I belong somewhere. Guestrooms always make me feel…”

“Like a guest?”

“Yes!”

“Hunter. We _are_ guests.” Bobbi reminded him. Yes, they’d both stayed here often enough over the years they’d been together, but Bobbi hadn’t _lived_ in the house for four years. “You do realise that _this_ is the guest room now?”

Hunter waved her off. “Doesn’t count if there’s still Captain America sheets on the bed and a poster of a teen-heartthrob on the wall.”

Bobbi looked to the photo he pointed at and rolled her eyes. “Hunter, that’s you.”

He grinned at her. “I know, I just love that one day you just thought ‘Y’know what this room needs? A handsome Englishman to tie it all together’.”

She threw one of his sneakers at him.

The photo had been put up on her wall during a summer a few years back when Bobbi had gone home to work for her parents, but when Hunter had stayed back in England to help his Mum take care of his little sister. Bobbi hadn’t had the heart to take the picture down each time they visited, no matter how much Hunter teased her about it. Frankly, she was surprised her mother hadn’t removed it. Any guest staying with them apparently had to put up with Captain America bedclothes and Lance Hunter’s face watching them while they slept.

“How about when it comes to asking my parents if we can live here for a while, I do the talking, huh?”

Lance clapped once. “Love, I was counting on that to be perfectly honest. Frankly, your Mum scares the shit out of me.”

Bobbi crossed the room and dropped down on the bed beside him. Hunter wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

“I love you, wifey.” Hunter mumbled. “I _love_ you so much. But I refuse to be the one who tells your parents we got married.”

Arching a brow, Bobbi turned to look at him. “Well, I’m not doing it.”

“They’re _your_ parents.” Lance argued. “I told _my_ parents.”

She scoffed. “You left them a note via your little sister, that doesn’t count.”

“It so counts.”

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

“Does not.”

“Does-,”

“Hunter! Stop.” Bobbi put a hand in his face to shut him up. “How about we just don’t tell them?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I agree. Keep it a secret forever. Yes.”

“Not forever.” Bobbi cuddled into his side. “Just…just until we get them good and drunk.”

Hunter snorted in her ear and pulled Bobbi closer to his chest. “I love you.” He mumbled. “I do, Bobbi.”

She smiled. He always got particularly soppy when he was tired, and both of them were jet-legged as hell.

“I love you, too, Lance.” She kissed the corner of his mouth and he nosed into her hair.

“Let’s sleep for the next eighty-seven years.” He said, eyes already closed.

Since having lain down beside her new husband, exhaustion was overcoming Bobbi, and she had to agree with Lance’s suggestion. Unfortunately, just as Bobbi was succumbing to a delicious slumber, the distinct sound of the front door opening could be heard, followed by the chatter of her family.

She groaned into Lance’s neck. “They have descended.” He snored in response and Bobbi smirked. “Lance.” She nudged him. “ _Hunter_.” She not-too-gently slapped his cheek and Hunter sat up with a start.

“Huh?” He frowned at Bobbi. “That was not eighty-seven years. No way.”

“No, it was like five minutes, but listen.”

The two stayed silent long enough to hear her father call, “ _When did we sign up for ‘Lego Magazine’?”_

Bobbi turned to Hunter. “C’mon.” She grinned. “Let’s go see the squad.”

“God,” Hunter frowned, “they’re _my_ family now, too, aren’t they?”

She wiggled her decorated ring-ringer in his face as she climbed off the bed. “Didn’t think that through when you proposed, huh?”

“Not so much.”

Bobbi slid the engagement and wedding rings from her finger, and reached out to Lance to take his band, too. She opened the top drawer of the desk in the bedroom and began rummaging through the remnants of her teenage self, wondering again how her parents could have _ever_ called this a ‘guest room’ with all her crap still in it.

He hands landed on one of her old pencil cases, filled with some of her watercolour pencils, and dropped the rings in, zipping it closed and shutting the drawer with her hip.

“Come, husband. The family awaits.”

“Bloody hell.”

Bobbi raced down the stairs, ignoring Lance’s on going mumbled curses behind her. It was her little sister she saw first, but that tended to be the case in most scenarios given the brightness of Natasha’s hair.

Natasha stopped in her tracks, eyes glued to Bobbi. Out of her periphery, Bobbi noticed her mother stop, but Bobbi was grinning at Natasha. They hadn’t seen each other in _months._ Bobbi had been England for almost a year, and even though she’d visited home a couple of times, her and Natasha had missed each other every time.She hadn’t seen Nat in person since she’d first left for her job in England in January- it was now _October_. It was the longest the two of them had been apart since Nat had moved in when Bobbi was twenty, and she’d missed her little Tash desperately.

Almost in a delayed reaction to seeing Bobbi, Natasha squealed and raced across the room, throwing herself into her big sister’s arms. Bobbi hugged Natasha close, blinking past the tears that pricked in her eyes; a few escaped anyway. Ten months was far too long to be away from Tash, and just from the feeling of hugging her, Bobbi could tell she had changed.

Perhaps infinitesimally, but she could tell that Nat had grown. Her hair tickled Bobbi’s nose, and when they had hugged goodbye last January Bobbi was able to rest her chin on the top of her head. Bobbi kissed Nat’s forehead and grinned.

“Miss me?” Bobbi laughed.

“You’re never allowed to go away for that long again.” Nat said firmly.

Bobbi pulled her close and spoke quietly. “I don’t intend to, little sis.” She gave Natasha a cryptic little smile, before rushing forward to hug her mother. “I love you, Mommy.”

“Oh, my little girl.” Her mother kissed both of Bobbi’s cheeks and held her hands in hers. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Bobbi shrugged a little guiltily. “It was a surprise.” She said. “Surprise!”

Her mom laughed and hugged her again. “Well, Bobbi, this was certainly a surprise.”

“Hey, Hunter.” Natasha said, and Bobbi turned to see her husband lounging on the stairs.

“Alright, Tasha?” He smiled and stepped down to hug her sister. “You get taller, Red?”

Natasha shrugged, pulling back and smiling. “Maybe a little. You’ve been gone a long time.”

They continued their conversation, Clint patting Bobbi on the shoulder and joining Hunter and Nat, but Bobbi was more interested in seeing her father and seeing the little girl perched on his hip.

“Hi, Dad.” Bobbi smiled.

“Come here, beautiful.” Her Dad held out the arm that wasn’t holding the little girl, and Bobbi rushed over to hug him. He kissed her cheek and released her, turning his attention to the little girl in his arms. “Skye, you want to say ‘Hi’?”

“Hello.” The little girl said. “You’re Bobbi.”

Bobbi grinned. “I am. And I take it, you’re Skye.”

Skye nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”

“Well, Skye. It’s lovely to meet you.” Bobbi held out her hand.

“Put me down, Phil.” Skye said, wiggling. He put her down and Skye stepped up to Bobbi, accepting her handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Bobbi. You’re an awesome drawer and I took care of your dollies real good. I promise I did.” Skye was bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly, still holding onto Bobbi’s hand.

“I’m glad you like playing with my Barbies. They don’t get played with much these days.” Bobbi said, crouching so that she could talk to Skye better. “An thank you for calling me an ‘awesome drawer’.” She laughed as Skye blushed. “Maybe I could draw you something.”

Skye’s eyes lit up, and if Bobbi wasn’t already in love with her new baby sister, it would have been _that_ look that cinched the deal.

“Could you?” Skye asked. “Could you really draw me something? I saw all your drawings on the door and in the Playroom.”

“I thought maybe I could make you a sign to go on your bedroom door?”

“Yes please.” Skye smiled. “You saw my bedroom?”

Bobbi stood back up, looking around the room the see the rest of her family watching the interaction. “Yeah,” She said, “I kind of saw it while I was…” Bobbi looked to Hunter for help but he just shrugged. “…breaking into your house.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “I was wondering how you got in here.” She said. “So what? You scaled the house and climbed in through Skye’s bedroom window?”

“Exactly.” Hunter said. “You couldn’t be any more accurate, Melinda. Please don’t kill me.”

“How about you just use a key, next time?” Clint smirked. “I hear they work really well.”

Bobbi looked to Natasha, and her sister slapped Clint’s arm as punishment for his snarkiness.

Yep, Bobbi thought, it was good to be home.

…

Skye liked Bobbi and Hunter, she did, but meeting new people always made her feel a little nervous, and ideally Skye wanted to stay with Melinda or Phil but they were busy ordering food for all of them, so instead she glued herself to Natasha’s side. Natasha didn’t seem to mind. She talked to Bobbi mostly, while Clint spoke to Hunter, but she held Skye’s hand the whole time.

At some point the family, minus Mel and Phil, had graduated to the Playroom.

Clint and Hunter sat in the corner, building Clint’s ‘Hogwarts’ Lego set. It was a hard set to build, Clint said. And Skye had seen the box said it was only for kids over fourteen, but Clint had said that she could maybe help him sometime if she promised to be careful. He made Hunter promise to be careful, too, even though he was even older than Clint.

Bobbi and Natasha had sat on the couch, and Skye wedged herself between the two, cuddling into Natasha, happy to listen to their conversation. Natasha had Charlotte the spider on her knee and Skye suddenly felt bad for Mr. Snow who was upstairs on her bed.

“I was being serious, Bobbi. You’re never allowed to go away for that long again.” Natasha said. She was running her fingers through Skye’s ponytail as she spoke.

Bobbi smiled brightly. “And I was being serious.” She dropped her voice and leaned in. “I don’t intend to.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asked. “You’re being very cryptic.”

“Well, I missed you guys too much to go away again. And anyway, how could I ever leave my new baby sister?” Bobbi kissed Skye’s head.

Skye frowned and tugged on Bobbi’s t-shirt. “I don’t want you to go away, Bobbi.”

She patted Skye’s hand. “Listen, if I tell you guys something, can you keep it a secret? At least for now?”

“Of course.” Nat said immediately.

“Um…” Skye hesitated. She wasn’t sure keeping secrets was a good thing to do.

“It’s nothing bad.” Bobbi said. “I promise. I just don’t want to tell Mom and Dad yet. I promise you wont get into trouble.”

That sounded okay, Skye supposed. Bobbi was a grown up, even more than Natasha, and if she said it was okay, then it must be.

“I can keep a secret.” Skye said. “I’m really good at it.”

Bobbi kissed her again. “Awesome, baby sis.” Her face went serious. “I got a new job.” She said, speaking more to Natasha than Skye. Skye still listened intently. “You know mine and Hunter’s friend, Izzy Hartley, the woman who was helping me get my Masters Degree?”

“Yeah.” Nat said.

Skye nodded too, even though she had no clue who Izzy was.

“Well,” Bobbi continued, “she moved back here a few months ago with her girlfriend, and she offered me a job. Here, at a medical facility like thirty minutes away. Working in a lab doing BioChem. It doesn’t exactly pay very well, but it’s what I always wanted to do. I start in two weeks.”

Natasha was quiet, so Skye turned around to check she was okay. The secret wasn’t that interesting. Skye didn’t really understand half of what Bobbi was saying anyway, so she was gauging her reactions from Natasha. Nat was grinning. Skye smiled, too.

“You’re home to stay? Forever?” She asked quietly.

Bobbi hugged them both, squashing Skye. Skye giggled.

“I’m staying, Tasha.” Bobbi kissed Natasha’s cheek. “Hunter and I want to make our lives here. We don’t want to leave again.”

“That’s fantastic.” Nat smiled. “But won’t Hunter get homesick?”

Skye wasn’t sure _exactly_ what Bobbi wanted to say to Natasha, but the look she threw Skye’s way made it obvious that she didn’t want her to know. She had seen _that_ look plenty of times over the years when grown ups wanted to talk about something but couldn’t because she was in the room. Bobbi smiled and looked over at Hunter. Skye looked too. He and Clint were fighting over the directions for the Lego castle.

“You know things haven’t been great for Hunter and his family?” Bobbi said quietly and Natasha nodded. Skye nodded too. “Well let’s just say things have been steadily getting worse and he’s happy to get away.” Bobbi looked at Skye again in that way that made Skye feel like she shouldn’t be listening, but then Bobbi gave her a hug and she felt better. “I’ll tell you later, Nat.”

“Okay.” Natasha said.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Skye didn’t mind. She liked getting hugs from her big sisters, and it was funny to watch Hunter and Clint squabble.

“Hey, Skye.” Nat said.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you show Bobbi how you’ve been playing with her Barbies?” Natasha suggested, and Skye grinned. Natasha nudged Bobbi. “She loves them.”

Skye jumped off the couch and grabbed Bobbi’s hand, dragging her over to the large dollhouse and sitting down on the carpet.

“I took real good care of them, Bobbi. I promise.” Skye held out the red haired Barbie, the one who had kind of become her favourite in the games. “See. I brushed their hair and everything.”

Bobbi was smiling really big, the same way Natasha did when Skye gave her Charlotte the spider.

“I see that.” Bobbi said. “I’m glad you like them. They don’t get played with enough now. I was getting worried that they would be getting lonely.”

Skye shook her head. “No. I play with them all the time so that they don’t get bored.”

“Well, that’s good.” Bobbi picked up one of the dolls sitting on the little plastic couch and stroked her fingers over its glossy hair.

Natasha sat down next to them on the floor and when Skye looked over at her, she saw she had one of the baby dolls in her lap, holding it like it was a proper baby. Skye had never really played with the baby dolls. They were Natasha’s and although she was sure her big sister wouldn’t mind if she played with her toys (Nat was a big girl after all), Skye had never felt the same appeal she felt for the Barbies.

The one Nat was holding was a soft-bodied doll, with plastic limbs and a plastic face with little glossy blue eyes that closed when Natasha laid her down. Some of the other dolls were all hard plastic, but this one really looked like a little baby.

Skye passed the red head Barbie to Bobbi and shuffled over to Natasha to look down at the baby in her arms.

“Does she have a name?” Skye asked, reaching out a finger to stroke the tiny features on the baby’s face.

“Lia.” It was Bobbi who answered. “Baby Lia.” She smiled and moved closer to sit next to Natasha. “I remember when Mom bought you that baby.”

“Hm.” Nat smiled. Skye watched as she spoke to Bobbi, bouncing the doll in her arms slightly as if it were alive. “I wasn’t very happy at the time.”

“No.” Bobbi laughed. “I distinctly remember you throwing her against the wall in the kitchen.”

Skye gasped.

Natasha held the baby in one arm to hold Skye’s hand with the other. “I shouldn’t have done that, but I was really sad at the time.”

“Why?” Skye shuffled ever closer to her big sister.

Natasha leaned her head on Bobbi’s shoulder, and Bobbi wrapped her arm around Natasha. Skye felt a little left out, even though she still held Nat’s hand, so she moved to sit between Bobbi’s outstretched legs.

“Why were you sad, Natasha?” She asked again. Nat frowned a little and Skye got worried she might have made her upset. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s okay, Skye.” Nat smiled. “We’re sisters. We tell each other everything.”

“We do?”

“Oh yeah.” Bobbi added. “That’s the good thing about sisters. You might not want to talk to Mom or Dad about something, but you can always talk to your sisters.”

“Okay.”

Natasha sighed and looked back down at her doll, Lia. One of the baby’s hands was in a little fist. Skye stroked her hand over the back of it.

“I used to live in Russia, a long time ago.” Nat said. “And when I lived there, I lived with lots of other girls, and lots of them had babies.”

Skye listened to the story intently. Beyond what Mel and Phil had told her of Natasha’s past, Skye knew nothing of her big sister’s life.

“And the girls,” Nat continued, “they couldn’t look after their babies.”

“Why not?” Skye questioned.

“Well…um. Some girls got sick, and some had to leave, and some…”

“Sometimes bad things happen.” Bobbi interjected. “And when those bad things happened, the babies were left without Mommies.”

“Yeah.” Nat said quietly.

“That’s sad.” Skye said. “Who took care of the babies?”

“I did.” Nat said. She took a deep breath, and for an awful second, Skye thought Natasha was going to cry, but then she looked up at her and Natasha smiled. “I took care of the babies with some other girls, and we dressed them, and fed them, and bathed them…and then I had to leave and come to America.” Her voice was doing that thing again, Skye noticed, where Nat’s accent started peeking though.

“I wasn’t in America for very long before I came to live here with Mom and Dad and Bobbi.” Natasha smiled. “And I missed taking care of the babies, so Mom bought me Lia.” She looked down fondly at the doll. “I got mad at her for buying me a toy, because I thought I was too old. But then Bobbi told me about her Barbies and how she still had them, and I didn’t feel so bad. And then I got a few more babies, too.”

Skye looked over to where the other baby dolls sat dutifully. “Mel says you like dressing them.”

“I do. Sometimes I get mad, and pretending I have babies to take care of makes me feel better.” Nat laughed. “I know that sounds ridiculous and stupid and _weird_ because I’m a grown adult playing with dolls, but-,”

Bobbi cut her off. “It’s not ridiculous.” She said firmly. “I’m twenty-five and still have an unhealthy attachment to my Barbies. Hunter is twenty-six and Clint’s twenty and they’re both obsessed with Lego. Dad’s forty-three and you’ve seen how much Captain America stuff he has. We’re all a little weird in this house.” Bobbi grinned. “And I don’t know about you guys, but I _love_ being a little weird.”

“Hey, Nat.” Clint called over. “Tell Hunter to give me back the brick he stole, I _need_ it.”

“I haven’t even got it.” Hunter argued back. “Tell him, Bobbi.”

“Tell him, Nat.”

They watched as the two grown men bickered over the rogue Lego brick. Skye could hear Bobbi and Nat giggling and neither intervened.

“Oh…wait a second.” Clint reached underneath him and sheepishly looked over to Natasha. “I was sitting on it. Doesn’t matter. False alarm.”

“See.” Skye heard Hunter mumble. “I didn’t take it.”

“I guess you’re right.” Nat smiled, shaking her head. “We’re all a bit strange. I’m weird and I’m proud.”

Skye nodded. “Me too. I’m weird, too.”

“Good girl.” Bobbi laughed. “Maybe we should start a club or something. Or like, a support group?”

“How about ‘The Justice Weird of America’?” Clint suggested.

“Hey!” Natasha and Hunter said together.

“Other nationalities present, mate.” Hunter said. “Weird United.”

“We’re not a soccer team, Hunter.” Bobbi rolled her eyes.

He sighed heavily. “ _Football,_ Bobbi. Football.”

“Whatever.”

Skye laughed. She loved her family.

…

The chaos was back.

The chaos of a full family life that Melinda had been missing, was back in full force as her children gathered around the tiny coffee table in the living room and ate pizza.

Bobbi was cuddled against Hunter, her back to his chest. Clint and Natasha were sharing food from one plate, or rather, Clint was occasionally feeding Nat bites of pizza from his own plate. Skye sat on the floor in between the two couples, happily listening to their stories and watching their interactions. Mel was thrilled to see Skye at the centre of the action, apparently relishing in the noise and laughter.

It did however, make it all the more difficult for Melinda to be the ‘responsible’ one and tell the little girl it was time for bed. Skye laughed as Hunter tickled her with his foot, and decided just to leave her be for a little longer. Instead Mel cuddled up on the couch next to Phil. He kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her.

“This what you wanted?” He said quietly, nodding at the five kids on their living room floor.

“Exactly.” She said. “This what _you_ wanted?”

“Yeah.” Phil smiled, then frowned. “Although I could do without Lance Hunter having his hands all over my daughter.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. Bobbi and Hunter had always been a little fonder of PDA than Clint and Natasha, and Phil had _always_ found it hard to stomach.

“They’re in love.” Mel said. “We were like that once. Actually, we’re still kind of like that now if we’re honest.”

“Hm.” Phil nuzzled her cheek. “I don’t deny it. But it’s different when I see my daughter acting like that.”

“She’s not twelve anymore, Phil.” She reminded him. As if to demonstrate her point, Hunter placed an open-mouthed kiss to Bobbi’s neck. Even for them, that was a little steep. There was certainly something going on with Bobbi and Hunter. Mel made a silent pledge to figure out what.

Phil groaned and pressed his face into her shoulder as Hunter kissed Bobbi’s neck again, his hands groping under her shirt. Luckily, Skye was occupied with playing thumb wars with Clint and didn’t seem to notice the overtly sexual behaviour Mel would prefer not to expose the eight year old to.

Mel watched as Hunter whispered something into Bobbi’s ear, her eldest daughter failing to disguise a blush and turning her head to kiss her boyfriend. The kiss went from chaste to heated in half a second, and Mel smirked as she felt Phil’s arm tighten around her slightly. Bobbi’s tongue made an appearance and Phil went rigid. One look at his face revealed him glaring daggers in Hunter’s direction.

“Okay, okay.” Mel announced. “Get your tongue out of my daughter’s mouth, Lance Hunter.”

Hunter had the grace to look terrified as he moved his face away from Bobbi’s and extracted his hands from her shirt, although she remained flush against his chest.

“ _Mom_.” Bobbi said, blushing profusely.

“I’m glad you stopped them, Mom.” Nat smirked. “I was gonna go get the hose and spray them down.”

Bobbi glared at her sister. “We were just kissing. I can kiss my-,” She paused for a millisecond, but Mel noticed. “-boyfriend, if I want to.”

Clint grinned. “Not like you’re starring in a porno-,”

“ _Clint.”_ Mel chastised.

“Sorry.” He said, looking anything but. “But I just don’t want them to scar Skye for life. She’s only eight.”

Skye, looking utterly confused, frowned. “I’m not scarred.”

“Actually,” Mel said. “I’m more concerned about your father.”

Phil put his head in his hands. “Talk about being scarred. _I’m scarred_.”

Hunter remained quiet.

“How about you keep some things for behind closed doors, huh guys?” Mel suggested.

Bobbi blushed again. “Sorry, Dad.”

Phil’s head remained in his hands. “I love you, Bobbi. I do. I love you so much, but if I _ever_ see your tongue inside Lance Hunter’s mouth again I will lock you in your room and take Hunter to one of the far corners of the Earth, leave him there, and then never tell you where he is.” Phil looked up. “I’ll do it. I will.”

Mel smirked. Hunter looked genuinely horrified. Bobbi just rolled her eyes.

“How come you never threaten Clint?” Bobbi asked. “It’s not fair you target _my_ boyfriend and never get mad at Clint.”

“Not true.” Clint said. “Just last night Phil got really mad at me when he thought I’d knocked up Nat.”

“He didn’t” Nat said quickly at the shocked expression on her sister’s face. “Just to clarify, he didn’t knock me up.”

“What’s knocked up mean?” Skye asked and Mel stood up.

“It doesn’t matter and it’s way past your bedtime.” She said. Skye pouted. “Come on, Skye, bedtime.”

“But…” Skye looked around at her sisters. “I wanna stay up. _Please_ can I stay up?”

“I’m sorry, baby. Bedtime.” Mel shrugged and held out her hand.

Skye gave one last look of longing to Bobbi and Natasha.

“Sorry, baby sis.” Bobbi said. “Mom’s in charge.”

“Sorry.” Nat shrugged.

“Say goodnight to everyone.” Mel said.

Skye stood up dejectedly, but hugged each of the kids in turn, lingering more over Bobbi and Natasha.

“You’re gonna still be here in the morning, right?” She asked Bobbi.

“Yeah.” Bobbi held out her pinkie. “Promise.”

Skye grabbed it with her own finger and smiled. “Night, guys.” She climbed over the many legs to get to Phil, throwing both arms around his neck. He caught her easily. “Night, Phil.”

He kissed Skye’s cheek and released her to Melinda. “Night, Skye. Sweet dreams.”

“Come on.” Mel took Skye’s hand and led her upstairs to bed.

“Mel, what’s knocked up mean?” Skye asked.

Melinda sighed. “I’m gonna kill Clint.” She muttered under her breath.

“Huh?”

“I said, let’s get you to bed.”

…

Natasha was curled up on the couch with her mother and older sister. The boys at some point after Skye had gone to bed, had decided that they would break out Monopoly, and were now having a very serious and frank game of real estate on the living room floor. It never seemed to end well, which was precisely why she, Bobbi and her mother had decided _not_ to take part.

“Phil, you cannot claim that the Water Works is worth that much.” Clint was saying. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, Clint, you’re being ridiculous.” Her father countered. “You are forgetting the rate of inflation that has affected the public services. Taxing is just not cutting it these days.”

“We’re playing _Monopoly,_ Phil.”

“Clint, you’re just not taking this seriously enough.”

“We’re _playing Monopoly_.”

Natasha snorted and went back to focusing on her mother and sister.

“So,” her Mom said, “how long can we expect you and Hunter to be staying for?”

Bobbi balked. “Well…”

“Yeah, Bobbi.” Nat smirked. “How long until you go back to your permanent residence, in England, half way across the planet, where you _live_.”

“Shut _up,_ Natasha.” Bobbi threatened.

Natasha just laughed.

“You’re welcome to stay for as long as you want.” Their mother shook her head. “I know something is going on with you and Hunter, Bobbi.” She said, brushing some of the hair out of Bobbi’s face. “I’ll find out, you know.”

“I know you will, Mama. I honestly don’t doubt it.”

“So, what would be the best choice for you?”

Bobbi cringed. “To tell you now.”

“Go ahead.” Her Mom said.

“No thank you.” Bobbi nodded. “I’ll tell you, I promise. Just not right now.”

“I take it, Nat knows?”

Natasha grinned. “Bob tells her sisters _everything_. Of course I know. And Skye knows.”

“ _Natasha_.” Bobbi chastised.

“Sorry.”

Their mother rubbed her temples. “Bobbi. You are twenty-five. A grown woman. I trust you, but please tell me whatever your _not_ telling me, isn’t something extremely serious.”

“It’s not, Mom.” Bobbi promised.

“You’re not going to end up in prison or anything, right?”

“No, Mom. Promise.”

“Okay.” Her mother shrugged. “I love you girls.” She looked between the both of them. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Bobbi curled against their mother, and Natasha mirrored her action, reaching a hand out to hug her big sister, too.

“I love you, Mom.” Bobbi said.

“I love you, too, Mama.” Nat added.

“What the hell is ‘ _North Carolina Avenue’_? It should be ‘ _Oxford Street’_.” Hunter yelled from across the room. “You Americans are ludicrous.”

Natasha nudged her sister. “You really love _that_ idiot?” She smirked.

“Yeah.” Bobbi smiled. “I _really_ do.”

“And why is it _purple_? It should be brown.”

“Shut up, Hunter.”


	12. Skye's Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait this time. I'm incredibly busy with uni! Thank you for understanding. :)

After playing Monopoly had almost ended in a fist fight between Hunter and Clint over a dispute involving the ‘Go to jail’ rules, Melinda and Phil had sent them all to bed. Hunter had grumbled for a while about being twenty-six and treated like a child, but then Bobbi had given him a box on the ear and he’d shut up.

Clint hadn’t been too concerned about being sent to bed. He knew Melinda and Phil well enough to know it was mostly them just messing with Lance, but in reality, Clint was _tired_. He was very happy to get to his nice warm cosy bed and cuddle with Natasha until they fell asleep. It was a plan he was very supportive of.

That was until his plan went awry, and Clint Barton awoke, not to his lovely girlfriend beside him, but to one Lance Hunter’s face in his own.

Clint jerked back. “What the _hell_?”

Lance’s mouth moved, but whatever he said was too much of a mumble for Clint to read his lips. He frantically felt around on his bedside table until his hand closed over the two little aids. Sitting up while simultaneously putting in his hearing aids and flicking on the lamp, Clint kicked Hunter in the shin.

“Dude.”

Hunter groaned and pulled the duvet up further. “Shut up, man. Some of us are trying to get some sleep.”

“What. The. Hell?” Clint repeated slower. “Why are you in bed with me, Hunter? Where’s Tasha?”

Lance cracked open one eye. “Listen, I don’t like this any better then you do, but-,”

“ _Why_ are you in my bed?”

Hunter opened both eyes and gave Clint his most shit-eating grin. “I just love to cuddle.”

Clint thumped Hunter on the shoulder.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arm. “Unnecessary violence.”

“Not that unnecessary.”

Lance huffed. “S’not my fault I’m here. It was _your_ girlfriend who kicked _me_ out of bed with my…my girlfriend.”

Clint rubbed a hand over his face. “Huh?”

“Y’know what those two are like.” Lance said. “Apparently something very important needed to be discussed and it couldn’t wait until the morning.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “Apparently it was also something that needed to be discussed while they cuddled, so…” Hunter yawned. “Anyway, Nat told me just to come in here with you.”

Clint frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

“Don’t overthink it.” Lance said. “We’ve shared a tent when we’ve been camping loads of times.”

“It’s not really the same though.” Clint grumbled. Ideally he wanted to argue with Hunter until the other man got out of his bed, but Lance’s breathing was already getting heavier and Clint was just tired enough that he conceded.

“Fine.” Clint said. “But keep on your side of the bed.”

“Whatever.” Lance mumbled.

Clint glared at Hunter one last time before he took out his hearing aids again and switched off the lamp. As he settled back in bed, Hunter’s foot touched his and he jumped.

“What is my life?” Clint sighed.

…

“Natasha.” Bobbi whined, covering her eyes when her sister switched on the desk lamp. Bobbi felt the bed shift next to her and Natasha settled herself on her side.

“If you’re going to be telling me something important, I at least want to be able to see you.” Nat said.

Bobbi dared to open her eyes once more and glanced at the clock on her desk. “Nat, was it necessary to come and have this conversation with me at two in the morning?”

She heard Natasha huff. “Yes. You told me you would tell me ‘later’.” Nat said. She poked Bobbi in the ribs. “It’s later.”

The older woman turned on her side to face her younger sister. “I meant ‘later’ as in ‘not two in the morning’.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Nat said. She shuffled closer to Bobbi until they were sharing a pillow. “And anyway, Hunter didn’t mind.”

Bobbi chuckled. “Did you see his face when you told him to go cuddle with Clint? I think he minded.”

Tasha smirked. “Well, he’s gone anyway. So are you going to tell me? Why couldn’t you just tell me before?”

“I didn’t want Skye to hear.” Bobbi admitted. “She doesn’t need to know what’s been going on with Hunter’s family.”

Tasha propped her head up with her arm. “If Hunter doesn’t want me to know…” she said. “…I don’t mind if you don’t tell me.”

“I thought you were so curious that you couldn’t sleep.”

“I am curious!” Nat said. “But I wouldn’t want you telling him all of my secrets. It works both ways.”

Bobbi searched for her sister’s hand under the Captain America covers and laced their fingers together. “He said I could tell you.” She said. “Lance doesn’t mind if you tell Clint, either. To be honest, I think he’d prefer to not have to talk about what’s going on.” Bobbi sighed. She squeezed Natasha’s hand. “You know I’d never tell anyone anything you didn’t want me to, right? Not even Mom and Dad.”

“I know. I trust you.” Nat smiled. “And same for you. Cross my heart.” She signed crossing with their joined hands.

The sisters shared a moment of appreciation for one another. It was a relationship that neither had even experienced before meeting one another. Something special.

Bobbi had been twelve when Melinda and Phil had taken her in. Before that, when she was much younger, almost too young to remember, she’d had a half-brother. Ben. She didn’t know if that was short for something or if he was just ‘Ben’. He was older than she was by a fair few years. At one point he had been left in charge when her biological parents had gone out and left them both alone for over a week, but he couldn’t have been old _enough_ to care for her because that was when little Barbara Morse had her first experience with the CPS. She had seen her brother maybe twice since that day. Not that Bobbi could recall many memories with him. After she and her brother had been removed from her biological parents’ care, Ben had been taken to stay with someone from his dad’s side of the family and Bobbi had been shipped off to stay with an aunt.

All of Bobbi’s good memories of family began at the age of twelve, and began with her Mom and Dad.

All of Bobbi’s _great_ family memories began five years ago when a viscous little Russian teenager barrelled into her life and somehow between threatening her in a language Bobbi couldn’t understand, and picking fights with her despite the language barrier, they had become sisters.

Bobbi loved Natasha.

“You know Lance’s relationship with his Mom and stepdad has always been strained?” Bobbi said. Natasha nodded as Bobbi brushed some of her red hair away from her eyes. “Well it got a lot worse.”

She sighed. Lance hid it well with sarcasm and cheeky grins, but the past few months had been hell for him and his family.

“It was back at the start of September. We went to go pick up his sister,” Bobbi said, “to take her out.”

Natasha nodded. “You guys take her out often.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Bobbi said. “So we go to the house to get her and there’s no one there. No cars in the driveway. No curtains at the windows. All the furniture was gone.” She recalled looking through the windows of his parents’ house while Lance knocked on the neighbours’ doors, desperate for any information. “We were asking everyone we knew if they had seen them. It took almost a week before we found where they were.”

Natasha pulled their joined hands up to her cheek. “You never told me on the phone.”

“Lance asked me not to.” Bobbi explained. “We didn’t have a clue what was going on, then one of the neighbours called me and said his wife was friends with Hunter’s Mom on Facebook and she saw they had moved.”

“Moved?”

Bobbi nodded. “Up and left without telling him where they were going. Eventually we found them.” She sighed. “His Mom, stepdad and sister, all living with his uncle in his apartment.”

Natasha’s face was a picture of concern. “But why?” She asked. “Without telling Hunter?”

Bobbi shrugged. “Because his stepdad is awful. When we got to the apartment, Lance’s sister asked if she could come home with us.” Bobbi swallowed past the lump in her throat at the memory of that little girl begging them to take her with them. “We would have taken her if we could.” She told Nat.

“You should have.”

“We would. But they’re her parents, and while they’re both terrible humans, they’re not technically being abusive.” Bobbi thought to her new little sister. Little Skye, only a year younger than Lance’s little sister. God, Bobbi thought, she was _so_ happy Skye had her parents.

Natasha absentmindedly stroked Bobbi’s knuckles against her cheek. “But why did they think it was a good idea to move into a tiny apartment? It seems stupid.”

“I know.” Bobbi said. “I know. They sold the house to get enough money to,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes in frustration, “to move to Benidorm.”

“Benidorm?” Nat said.

“Spain.” Bobbi clarified. “They were going to take his sister to Spain without even telling Lance. That’s why we _really_ wanted to come home. Here. We wanted to be around family we knew we could trust.”

Natasha nuzzled their joined hands. “You’ve got us. Both of you.”

“I know, little Bubba.” She said. “And everything else just worked out for us. Izzy offered me a job here. Our lease on our apartment was up. Hunter got into a fight with his boss and got fired. It just all worked out.”

Nat smirked. “What was that last one?”

“Our lease was up?”

“Right.” Nat giggled.

“The only other thing is…” Bobbi said. “His parents still want to cart his sister off to Spain. She doesn’t want to go. But what can we do?”

“Bring her here.” Nat said.

“It’s not that simple. I wish it were.”

The two lay quietly for a while, Natasha’s eyes gradually drooping the more time that went on. Past Nat’s head, Bobbi could see the desk drawer, slightly ajar, that still held the pencil case containing her and Hunter’s wedding rings. She wanted to tell Nat. She desperately did. After all, it was her who earlier that day had told Skye that sisters told each other everything, but the admission stuck in her throat.

 _I married Lance_.

It was only three words. Bobbi should really just come out and say it, but for years Nat and Bobbi had discussed their potential weddings with each other in their rooms late at night. They had talked about how marriage was pointless, and only beneficial for those who wanted to marry for money and people who felt pressured by society to do so. But then they would pick out wedding dresses and assure the other that they would be their Maid of Honour and it seemed both had a hidden desire for a wedding day, or perhaps just an excuse for a huge party given the majority of their planning consisted of finding a venue with a suitable dance floor and a karaoke. Neither Bobbi, nor Nat, were very fond of crowds, but when it came to fake- wedding planning, both became party fiends.

 _I married Lance_.

It would take mere seconds to tell Natasha. But Bobbi was nervous. It wasn’t just that she was keeping this secret from her now, it was that she and Lance had got engaged and then eloped three weeks ago, and she hadn’t said a word. And Bobbi really couldn’t explain why. She was terrified of what her parents would say, but Nat, she could tell Nat, surely.

_I married Lance._

Bobbi swallowed. What if she told Tasha, and then she got mad at her for keeping it a secret for so long? Or what if Bobbi had misjudged, and Nat actually disapproved of her marriage? Or what if Tash was just hurt she hadn’t even been invited to her own sister’s wedding?

“I should probably go back to my own bed.” Nat said.

“Oh, okay.”

“Not that I don’t love getting hugs from my big sister, but I doubt Clint will want to cuddle with Hunter all night.” Natasha leaned forward to peck Bobbi’s nose. “Night night, Bob.”

Nat climbed out of bed and walked towards the door. Bobbi’s eyes landed on the desk drawer again.

“Hey, Nat?”

Tasha turned, half way out of the door. “Yeah?”

_I married Lance._

Bobbi confidence faded. “Night, Tasha. I love you.”

Nat smiled. “I love you, too. Night, Bobbi.” She left her room and gently closed the door behind her.

Bobbi groaned.

…

It had been a nightmare that woke up Skye. Not one of the worst she’d had, but bad enough that she woke up sweating and hyperventilating.

Skye took a second to try and calm down. Deep breaths. That’s what people did when they were panicking, right? That’s what people always said on the TV. She attempted to follow her own advice and focus on breathing deeply. The bedroom glowed with the dull blue light from her star lamp, and Skye tried to keep her attention on the starry shadows it cast on her walls, rather than on the horrible memories of the dream.

She shivered.

Now that Skye was calming down, she was becoming more aware of how she was physically feeling. At some point in the night she must have kicked her duvet to the ground. It lay on her rug in a tangled heap with her blue blanket and Mr. Snow. Skye shifted in bed with the intention of saving her poor polar bear, and her heart sank.

“No.” She whispered, sitting up and pushing herself backwards on the bed. “No.”

The blue glow of the lamp made everything a little more difficult to distinguish, but once Skye knew what she was looking for, the dark patch on her pyjamas and her bed seemed to stand out like it was mocking her. The fabric of her pyjamas was getting cold. She would have to get up soon or it would start itching.

Skye felt a sob bubbling up. She tried to quell it, but to no use. Big fat tears began falling down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure what to do. When she wet the bed back at St Agnes’, Skye had a routine. A tried and tested way to cope.

_Strip the sheets._

_Wash up in the bathroom._

_Change Pyjamas._

_Put the dirty laundry in the washing machine and collect it before breakfast._

No one really cared at the orphanage. Sure it was humiliating if anyone caught her, and the other kids (and even some of the nuns) took great pride in taunting her, but generally they left Skye to it to clean her things. Here, living with Mel and Phil, she didn’t know what to do.

Skye bit her bottom lip to try and stem her tears. They still persistently leaked from her eyes, but she was able to control her sobbing. Unsure what to do next, Skye decided to go back to her old faithful steps and began stripping the bed of its sheets as quietly as possible.

Once the sheets were off the bed, Skye shuffled over to her bedroom door. It was late, she wasn’t sure _how_ late, but there was no sound of anyone downstairs when Skye pushed her ear against her door, so she was confident everyone was asleep. Perhaps she could slip into the bathroom and get cleaned up before anyone realised she was out of bed.

Slipping through her door however, Skye was horrified to see Natasha standing down the hall, halfway into Bobbi’s room. She had her back to Skye, and if Skye had been quick she probably could have got into the bathroom without Natasha seeing her, but fright had her glued to the spot, shivering in soaked pyjamas.

“Night, Bobbi.” Natasha said quietly, though her voice carried down the hall to Skye. Nat turned, closing Bobbi’s door, and her eyes caught Skye’s. She took a few steps towards Skye. “You okay?”

The tears had never really stopped, but Skye started to feel her lip begin to quiver again. She sniffed hard.

Natasha sped up her last few steps to where Skye was standing. Skye could see the change in her expression from confusion to concern, and she dropped her head in embarrassment.

“Oh, malyutka.” Nat said quietly. She got on her knees in front of Skye.

“M’sorry.” Skye mumbled through the tears. Natasha hugged her, even though she was all wet.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not.” Nat pulled back, but brushed her thumbs over her cheeks to wipe away the tears. “Come on.” She said, standing up. She held out her hand and Skye automatically took it. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Skye allowed Natasha to take her back into her bedroom.

A new wave of mortification overtook her when she saw Natasha spot the pile of wet sheets on her floor. Natasha squeezed her hand. “Go get some new pyjamas, malyutka.” She said. Skye nodded and shuffled over to her dresser. She chose a clean pair and held them out to Nat. “Come on.” Nat smiled, taking her hand again and leading her into the bathroom.

Still far too embarrassed to look her big sister in the eye, Skye kept her eyes trained on the tiled floor of the bathroom. Nat made quick work of helping Skye to take off her wet pyjamas. She wet one of the washcloths on the radiator with warm water and passed it to Skye.

“Clean yourself off, malyutka.” Nat said. “I’ll be back in a second.”

Skye did as she said and cleaned herself off. As humiliating as the situation was, cleaning up in a warm bathroom with the help of her big sister was far more preferable to the lonely nights in St Agnes’ where she had shivered through her shame.

As promised, Natasha returned to the bathroom, with a clean towel in one arm and Mr. Snow in the other. She smiled comfortingly at Skye and took the washcloth from her, throwing it into the bath. She kneeled down on the bathroom floor and wrapped a warm fluffy towel around Skye.

“Feeling a little better, malyutka?”

Skye nodded. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” Nat smiled. “Let’s get you in some new jammies and then we can go back to bed.”

The towel came off and Skye put on the clean pyjamas Natasha passed to her.

“What’s it mean?” Skye asked, pulling the shirt over her head.

“Huh?” Nat said, passing Mr. Snow over to her.

Skye hugged him tightly. “You keep saying a funny word. ‘Malkutta’.” Skye frowned. It didn’t sound the same coming out of her mouth.

Natasha chuckled, standing up. “ _Malyutka._ ” She said. “It means ‘little one’ in Russian.” She took Skye’s hand and led her out of the bathroom.

“That’s me?”

“Yeah.” Nat said. “I can stop if you don’t like it.”

“No.” Skye said quickly. “I like it. I want it to be a nickname.”

“Okay then, malyutka. Sounds like a good idea.” Natasha stopped them outside of a door, except it wasn’t Skye’s bedroom door, it was her own.

“This is your room.” Skye stated the obvious.

“I know, but your bed is wet.” Nat said and Skye felt her face flush. “And that’s fine. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. But I don’t want you to sleep in a wet bed so you can come in with me and Clint?”

“Really?” Skye asked. She didn’t think Natasha would ever want to offer her bed to her after she’d seen her wet one.

“Only if you want to. Or you can go and stay in Mom and Dad’s room.”

Skye considered it. She _had_ loved cuddling with Mel and Phil the night before, but she didn’t want to wake them up and have to tell them she had wet the bed, like a stupid little baby. And Skye loved Clint and Nat. A thought hit her.

“Won’t Clint mind?” Skye asked.

Nat snorted. “Believe me. Given who he’s sharing with at the minute, he won’t mind.”

Natasha gently pushed open the door and stepped inside her bedroom, Skye following. Nat’s room was much darker than Skye’s because she didn’t have a nightlight, but when they reached the bed Natasha switched on a lamp. Skye had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

There, tangled up in each other’s limbs, for all intents and purposes _cuddling_ was Natasha’s Clint and Bobbi’s Hunter.

“Phone.” Nat whispered to Skye, and Skye rushed over to the desk to retrieve her big sister’s phone. Natasha took it and quickly snapped a few images before handing it back to Skye to return to the desk.

Skye watched as Natasha kicked Hunter. He groaned and pulled away from Clint a little, only to immediately move even closer. She tried kicking him again.

“Hunter. Hunter wake _up_.” Nat punctuated with a punch to the shoulder.

Lance started awake and stared up at her. “Why am I constantly being punched in the shoulder?” He said. He looked at the person in the bed next to him. “And why am I hugging _Clint_?”

It took Lance’s frantic efforts to remove himself from Clint’s embrace, for Clint to actually wake up. Skye giggled. He looked just as horrified as Hunter at his position.

“You can go back to Bobbi now.” Nat smirked.

Lance stumbled over to the bedroom door. “Oh God. We never speak of this again. Never.” He closed the door behind him.

Clint still seemed a little startled at the situation. He was looking at Skye now, smiling but looking a little dopey with sleep.

“What’s happenin’?” He mumbled.

To Skye’s surprise, Nat didn’t reply to him. Instead she tapped his shoulder until he was looking at her, and then began making various hand gestures at him. Skye tried to decipher the movements but had no suck luck, however, Clint nodded understandingly a few times before looking back to Skye.

“You gonna come keep me company?” He asked, sitting up.

Skye looked up to Tasha.

“You get into bed, try and get to sleep. I’m going to go clean up.” Nat rubbed her shoulder.

Skye thought that maybe she should tell Natasha she could clean up after herself, but Tasha was already moving towards the door.

“You okay?” She said to Skye.

“Yeah.” Skye said. She climbed into bed next to Clint and he tucked both her and Mr Snow in beside him.

“I’ll be back soon, okay, malyutka.” Nat left the room and Skye snuggled down next to Clint.

Now that she was clean and dry, and Mr. Snow was safely in her arms, the exhaustion began to overtake Skye. She looked up at Clint. He was still sat up in bed, resting his back against the headboard.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” She asked.

Clint held up a finger for her to wait, and Skye watched as Clint picked something off the bedside cabinet. He pushed the things into his ears then turned back to Skye again.

“Say again, lil sis?” He smiled.

“I said ‘aren’t you sleepy’?” Skye craned her neck to get a better look at Clint’s ears. At her angle she could only see one, something tiny and purple protruding slightly from his inner ear. Something Skye realised she had simply never noticed before. Natasha’s hand gestures suddenly made sense as it dawned on Skye. “Are you deaf?”

Clint smiled. “A bit.” He said, then shrugged. “Actually, a lot. Almost all the way deaf.”

“That sucks.” Skye said, because she literally couldn’t think of anything better to describe what she wanted to convey.

He laughed. “Yeah, it kinda does. But I got these, you see.” He tapped the purple thing. “As long as I wear my aids, I can hear pretty well.”

“Oh,” Skye yawned widely. “I like the colour. I like purple.”

Clint turned his head the other way and Skye saw the other ear. He leaned down so that she could see into his ear properly. That hearing aid was silver.

“Cool.” Skye smiled. “I like ‘em.”

“Yeah? Well they recommend you get either clear ones or flesh coloured ones when you’re an adult, but that seemed a bit boring.”

“Purple and silver is way…” She yawned. “…way better.”

Clint sat back up. Skye yawned _again._ He stroked some hair out of her face.

“You going to sleep now?” He asked as Skye closed her eyes.

She didn’t really answer him. Just made some sort of affirmative noise. Skye was aware of Clint’s chuckle. She was aware of the light behind her eyelids dimming, perhaps as someone turned off the lamp. She was also aware of the bed dipping next to her, and some murmurings of Natasha’s voice. It was to the soothing sounds of her big sister and Clint talking softly, that Skye fell into a deep sleep, no longer scared of her nightmares.

…

For years Melinda and Phil went jogging together. It was an hour of just spending time with one another, without the distractions of the modern world and their children, and a chance to appreciate the beauty of nature.

Both of them hated it.

Spending time together was one thing, but jogging _sucked_ and Mel and Phil were the first ones to admit that they were more attached to their phones than was strictly healthy. Their motivation to go on early morning jogs hadn’t been very strong to begin with when they were eighteen. Twenty five years later, and it was a miracle if they both got out once a month. Although Phil was always better at biting the bullet and just getting out there.

“Are you coming with me?” Phil asked, pulling a hoodie over his head.

Mel groaned into her pillow. She was exhausted and the last thing she wanted to do on a Sunday morning was wake up at the crack of dawn and _jog_.

“I take that as a ‘no’.” Phil laughed.

Mel had no problem getting up early on weekdays to do Tai-Chi, but the weekends were her days off. The two days she _didn’t_ have to get up early, and now with Skye to chase around during the day, lie-ins were like gold dust. Plus, it was almost November. It was cold outside and if she _really_ wanted to exercise there was a gym full of equipment that she _owned_ that was far more comfortable than the dreaded outdoors.

And she was so tired. Yes. Bed was way better than outdoors.

“Fine.” Phil said. “I’ll just go without you.”

“Great.” Mel said as she felt the bed dip beside her.

Phil flopped on top of her, nuzzling her cheek. “It’s always more fun when you come with me.” He said against her face. “Please. We can run by the bakery and get cake to eat for breakfast as a reward.”

Melinda wrinkled her nose. The thought of cake this early in the morning made her stomach turn.

She kissed Phil’s cheek. “No thank you. But feel free to go on your own.”

He huffed and sat up on the bed. “Natasha and Clint are going back to DC at the end of next week and Bobbi and Hunter aren’t going to be here forever. We won’t be able to go on our jogging date when there’s no one to stay with Skye.”

“Phil, please. I’m _tired._ I don’t want to go jogging.”

“Fine.” Phil kissed her gently and combed through her hair with his fingers. “You okay, Mel? You look a little pale.”

“M’fine.” She smiled. Phil tended to be the ‘worrier’ of the two of them. “I just need a little longer in bed.”

“Okay then.” He kissed her again and climbed off the bed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun on your terrible jog.” She said.

He rolled his eyes. “What happened to us, Mel? Remember when we pledged to spend quality time together by going jogging at least three times a week?”

“Yeah, I remember. And I’ll tell you what happened. We realised staying in and watching movies was far more preferable than _jogging_.”

“But it’s good for you.” Phil argued feebly. He didn’t really sound as though he believed his own words.

Mel made a show of snuggling into the duvet. “I can go running at the gym.”

“But the fresh air…”

“Fresh air sucks.” Mel declared, closing her eyes.

Phil huffed and grabbed his running shoes. On the way out of the door, Melinda was sure she heard him say, “You’re so right.”

…

When Melinda awoke for the second time that morning, she could hear the shower in her and Phil’s ensuite running, and the melodic tones of her husband singing in the shower. Apparently it was an ‘ABBA’ sort of day. She smirked.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, grimacing at the grit in the corners. A glance at the clock told her Phil must have only been out jogging for an hour or so, but the hour of extra sleep had apparently made all the difference when it came to Melinda. The exhaustion had dissipated, and she felt more eager to get out of bed. That being said, it _was_ Sunday, and Melinda was perfectly happy to meander around in her pyjamas for a while before getting dressed.

Her first port of call was to wake Skye. The little girl would probably sleep until noon if she let her, but then she’d be awake until two in the morning, and there was no way Mel was putting up with that. Plus, in the commotion of Bobbi and Hunter’s return, Melinda and Phil hadn’t really had the chance to speak to Skye properly about the incident in the youth gym, and it would be nice to get it out of the way before the older kids woke up.

The only issue with Melinda’s plan was that Skye wasn’t in her room.

When Melinda gently pushed open her door, she was met not with the sleeping form of her youngest daughter, but with an empty bed. She stepped further into the room and inspected the stripped bed. The sheets were gone, and Skye’s pillow lay on the ground. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened during the night. Mel had cared for enough kids, many much older than Skye, who had accidents in the night. The question still remained, however: where was Skye now?

Mel left Skye’s room and stood in the hallway for a moment. It was entirely possible that Phil had cleaned up in Skye’s room while she had been sleeping, but he would have woken her to let her know, surely. She listened for any clues to Skye’s whereabouts, but was met with only a quiet house and the distant sound of the shower running from Phil.

It seemed illogical for Melinda to worry for Skye, she couldn’t have actually _gone_ anywhere, but despite this, Mel could feel the anxiety tightening in her chest. Propelled undoubtedly by concern for her youngest daughter, she walked towards Natasha and Clint’s bedroom in the hopes they may have some idea of Skye’s whereabouts.

Knocking on the bedroom door awarded Mel nothing, so she prayed to God that she wouldn’t be walking in on anything that would scar both her and her daughter for life, and pushed open Natasha’s door.

“Oh my.” Mel whispered at the sight before her. She bit her lip to keep from grinning and shook her head as tears inexplicably welled in her eyes. Perhaps she was getting sappy as she got older, or perhaps she just got emotional when her children were involved.

When Natasha had first arrived with Melinda and Phil, she had been a nightmare. Mel loved her little Bubba, but Nat _had_ been an absolute nightmare. She wouldn’t let anyone get near her, physically wouldn’t let anyone get near. She picked fights with both Mel and Phil over nothing and she purposely caused physical fights with Bobbi that more often than not ended with Bobbi bruised and bleeding. She screamed at them in Russian until she sobbed herself into exhaustion and constantly ran away, only to return in tears once she realised there was no way she could cope alone. Natasha had been the only child Melinda had truly, _positively_ thought she had failed.

And now, there she was, lying in bed fast asleep with her body curled protectively around her baby sister, and her fingers laced with her boyfriend’s.

All three of the kids, Clint, Nat and Skye, looked so peaceful. Three kids who due to no fault of their own had been forced to experience things no child, no _person_ should ever have to. Skye’s thumb was pressed against her lips and her other hand held the hem of Natasha’s t-shirt. Nat’s arm was draped over Skye, her fingers twined with Clint’s, and her nose pressed into Skye’s hair. Clint slept with his mouth wide open, the hand that wasn’t holding Natasha’s, held onto Mr. Snow.

Melinda wiped her eyes again, grinning madly. She was so lucky to have her children.

Arms wrapped around her waist from behind. “That’s cute.” Phil said into her ear and kissed her cheek. He smelled of his shower gel and Mel could feel the dampness from his hair on her cheek.

“I went to wake up Skye and she wasn’t in her room.” Mel said quietly, leaning back into Phil’s embrace.

“I guess she decided to climb in with her big sister.” He said, rocking them a little from side to side.

“I think she wet the bed.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. There’s no sheets on her bed. And,” Mel nodded at Skye, “she’s wearing different pyjamas from when I put her to bed.”

“You think Nat got her all cleaned up?”

Melinda smiled. “I think so.” She turned in Phil’s arms to look at him. “I want to have a talk with Skye about yesterday.” She said. “And Nat, for that matter, but Skye’s priority.”

“Yeah, we can’t have her going around beating kids up.” He grimaced. “No matter how much the little shits might deserve it.”

“Phil.” She berated.

“He totally deserved it, Mel.”

She shook her head but smiled at him fondly. “Don’t let the kids hear you say that.”

“Too late.” A voice came from the bed and Mel turned around to see Natasha sitting up rubbing at her eyes. “Dad’s right. He _did_ deserve it.”

“Natasha.” Mel warned. “This is serious.”

“I know, Mom.”

“Skye looks up to you.” Mel said quietly to avoid waking her youngest. “You can’t let your emotions get the better of you in situations like that.”

“I _know_.” Nat said quietly, looking down at a still sleeping Skye. “I’m sorry.”

Phil left Melinda’s side to walk over to the bed. Nat perched herself on the edge, her back to Clint and Skye, her head dropped. Red hair obscured her face from Melinda, but all Mel needed to see was the slumped line of her shoulders to know how upset Nat was becoming. Melinda knew her kids _better_ than the back of her hand.

Phil crouched down in front of Natasha, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay.” He said gently. “We all make mistakes.”

“But it wasn’t just me.” She said. “I made Skye do something I don’t think she would have done if I hadn’t told her to. I _made_ her get into trouble.” A hitch in her breath had Melinda by her side in half a second.

Melinda brushed Natasha’s hair behind her ears. “You don’t know that, Natasha. Skye’s only eight. She might be easily influenced, and about that you need to be careful, but she’s also just a kid. Skye’s going to do things regardless of your influences.”

Natasha looked at her with wet eyes. “I’m a bad big sister.”

“You are not.” Mel said with finality.

“Tasha,” Phil smiled, “you’re an amazing big sister. Honey, the fact that you’re so upset about this just proves that.”

Melinda looked around Natasha to peek at Skye. “Nat, you love her. And that’s all it really comes down to.”

“I _do_ love her, Mama. I do.”

“I know.” Mel sat bedside her on the edge of the bed and Phil squeezed in on Nat’s other side. “And thank you for taking care of her last night.”

Nat’s brow wrinkled in question.

“Your Mom went to wake Skye up and the sheets were off her bed.”

Natasha nodded. “I was in Bobbi’s room last night until pretty late and when I came out Skye was in the hallway. She’d wet the bed and she was really upset about it.”

“You could have woken me, you know.” Mel rubbed Nat’s arm.

She shrugged. “I didn’t mind. And she was okay once I got her all cleaned up. She went straight to sleep in bed with Clint while I put the sheets and stuff in the washing machine.”

Phil smiled. He leaned over and kissed her temple. “You’re an amazing big sister, Bubba. I’m so proud of you.”

The bed shifted behind them, causing all three people perched on the edge to turn around. Skye’s eyes fluttered open as her little arms stretched and she turned over to face them.

For a moment, confusion clouded Skye’s expression as she appeared to assess her surroundings, then realisation seemed to dawn on her and she blushed, looking between Phil, Natasha and Melinda.

“M’sorry.” Skye said.

“Why are you sorry?” Mel asked, reaching out to pat down some of Skye’s bed head.

The little girl nibbled her thumb. “I wet the bed.”

“It doesn’t matter, baby.” Mel assured her. “It was an accident.”

“M’still sorry.”

Phil tugged on Skye’s sleeve. “C’mere.”

She crawled over the bed, avoiding kicking Clint who remained sleeping with Mr. Snow the bear, and Phil lifted her onto his lap. He cuddled her and kissed her cheek.

“You see this girl here.” He pointed at Natasha, resting his chin on Skye’s shoulder. Skye nodded. “She’s been feeling guilty about what happened at the gym yesterday.”

“But it’s not your fault.” Skye said to Nat. “You didn’t do it. _I_ kicked him.”

“I shouldn’t have told you to hit him, though. I’m so sorry, Skye.”

Skye shrugged. “S’okay.”

“See,” Melinda nudged Natasha, “Skye doesn’t blame you. You’re a wonderful big sister.”

“You are.” Skye said with utter certainty. She looked down at her lap. “Thank you for being nice to me in the night, Tasha.”

Nat beamed and Melinda felt herself getting teary again. When she looked over at Phil, he was smiling brightly.

Natasha opened her arms and Skye crawled over, settling in her lap.

“I’ll always help you, malyutka. Always. No matter what.” Nat hugged her baby sister. “I love you.”

Skye gave Natasha a kiss. “I love you, too.”

Melinda watched as her two youngest daughters cuddled for a few minutes. For now all was well. Her children were happy.

“We still need to have that talk.” Phil said to her.

“I know.”

“What talk?” Skye asked.

Mel smiled at her. “Phil and I want to discuss what happened yesterday at the gym, with you.”

“Oh. I’m in trouble.”

“We just need to have a talk.” Mel said.

Skye pouted.

Phil stood up. “Come on, Skye. Why don’t we let Nat wake Clint and we can go and have a chat over some breakfast?” He held out his hand to her.

She looked reluctant, but Natasha patted her leg, and Skye slid off her lap to take Phil’s hand. She held out her other hand to Melinda.

Skye took a deep breath when Mel stood up and took her offered hand. “Okay, Mel, Phil.” Skye nodded determinedly. “Let’s get this over with.”

Phil and Mel couldn’t help but smirk at their sassy little girl. Oh, she was going to be a handful. And frankly, Melinda couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those asking, YES there will be spin-off fics posted regarding the early lives of Nat, Bobbi and Clint (and maybe even others). These will be posted eventually....give me a break, I'm really busy. Haha.


	13. Skye's Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out longer than usual. Posting it sooner than planned because you were all so kind even though there was a really long wait for the last chapter. Thanks for reading!

Skye sat down at the kitchen island and waited for Mel and Phil to take their seats. She had been in trouble enough times to know how this worked, and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.

No matter what house she was living in, whether with foster parents or back at the orphanage, ‘ _We need to have a talk’_ always meant, _‘We’re going to talk at you while you listen to all of the bad things you did’._

Of course it differed a little from home to home. St Agnes’ was keen on long discussions regarding behaviour, followed by some significant guilt-tripping, and finally topped off with a behavioural write-up and a punishment often involving extra chores and no play time.

It sucked, but it was completely preferable to some of the other houses she’d been in. In her last foster family, the Bakers, the father had been very fond of ‘ _teaching his kids like his father taught him’._ Skye wasn’t even one of _his kids_ and he had made that abundantly clear, so it especially didn’t seem fair that he would target her for his brutal methods of punishment. Skye didn’t like being shouted at. She also didn’t like being slapped on the back of the legs with an extension cord until she was bleeding.

All of the ‘ _talks’_ in all of the places she had lived tended to end in tears with Skye being frustrated and angry and not really understanding _why_ she was in so much trouble. Sometimes she did bad things, but sometimes Skye honestly couldn’t work out why she was the one in trouble. No matter how loud she tried to shout, no one seemed to understand.

Skye folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for what I did. I’ll try to be good.” She said, hoping to cut to the chase and end this conversation as soon as possible. “I won’t do it again.” And how many times had she said that?

Melinda and Phil didn’t say anything, just sat down opposite her, and Skye felt the need to look down at the dark granite of the worktops to avoid seeing their disappointment. They weren’t happy with what she had done yesterday. They were upset with her, Skye could tell, and it was making her head feel heavy as _she_ began feeling upset and angry with _herself_.

Yesterday’s incident seemed a long time ago now. Since then, Skye had been introduced to her eldest sister and her boyfriend, and had had an unfortunate incident during the night, but the guilt was still fresh in her mind.

“We’ve come down here to have a chat about what happened at the gym yesterday.” Mel said. She didn’t sound mad, so Skye dared to look up at her through her eyelashes.

“I’m sorry.” Skye said.

“I know.” Mel reached over and tapped Skye’s chin. She always did that when she wanted Skye to look at her. “I know you’re sorry, but we need to talk about _why_ it happened.”

Why had she done it? Why had she kicked the boy? Because she was mad? Because she wanted to? They didn’t seem like the right answers. The truth was, it had just happened. She had done it without even thinking, and Skye was angry with herself for letting it happen. Sometimes she just couldn’t control these things. Because she was _difficult._ She was _bad._

Phil laced his fingers on the counter. “Natasha thinks that it’s her fault. Because she told you to hit him, but I’m not sure that’s why you did it.”

Skye shrugged. She _really_ wanted to look away from them, but Mel had wanted her to keep her head up and it would only hurt her cause to be defiant over the little things at the moment. Phil was right though, it wasn’t Nat’s fault. _Maybe_ a tiny part of Skye had been spurred on by Natasha’s encouragement, but for the most part, once Skye had felt that anger overtake her system, there was no going back.

“Why did you kick him, Skye?” Mel asked.

Melinda was still in her pyjamas. Her hair wasn’t messy like Skye’s was (Skye wasn’t sure that Mel’s hair could _ever_ be messy), but the whole appearance made her look a lot less threatening. When Skye didn’t speak, Melinda’s expression changed, and Skye took back everything she’d thought about her foster mother looking any less terrifying just because she was wearing jammies.

“Tell me why you did it, Skye. I need to understand.”

“I was mad.” Skye said, rubbing her thumb over her lips. “He was mean to me so I was mean back to him.”

Phil nodded. “What do you mean by ‘mad’?”

Skye wrinkled her nose. “I dunno. Just mad. Angry.”

“What did it feel like?” Mel asked and Skye felt herself getting frustrated.

She didn’t know what they were asking from her. She had said she was sorry. She had told then _why_ she kicked the stupid boy, what more did they want?

She slapped the hand down from her face to the counter. “I _don’t know_ how it felt. Mad. I was _mad_.”

Melinda’s expression didn’t change, even as Skye’s voice rose.

“Inside,” Mel said, tapping her chest, “when you were angry, what did it feel like in here?”

Skye crossed her arms and breathed heavily through her nose. “How does it feel in there when _you_ get mad? I kicked him because he was mean to me and you know what?” She jumped off her chair and stomped to the other side of the kitchen. “I’m not even sorry I did it. I’m not!”

“You just said you were sorry before.” Phil said calmly.

“Yeah? Well, maybe I was just lying to you.” The words were coming out without permission and her vision clouded with angry tears. “‘Cause I don’t even _care_.” Skye shouted and kicked back at one of the kitchen cupboards with bare feet. Her heel collided with the solid wood and she had to grit her teeth against the pain.

“Don’t do that, Skye.” Mel said firmly, standing up and slowly walking towards her. “Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care.” Skye wiped fuming tears off her cheeks.

She didn’t want to cry and shout and have tantrums like a toddler. She didn’t want to hurt people and get into trouble.

_Skye was difficult,_ they said. And no one wanted a _difficult_ child.

She struggled to breathe through a sob and her breath hitched. She didn’t _want_ to pee the bed like a stupid little infant _._ Nobody wanted a kid that did _that_.

Melinda kneeled down in front of her and put her hand on Skye’s shoulder. Skye jerked her body away.

Why wouldn’t it just stop? Why did she have to get so mad all the time? It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she be like a normal kid with a Mom and a Dad who had always wanted her, who hadn’t dumped her when she was too young to even sit up? It just proved that she was bad from the beginning. Her parents must have known she was a bad kid. They probably kicked her out and then went home to have more children. _Good children._ Not like her.

Melinda squeezed Skye’s shoulder. “Skye…”

“Get off.” She growled at Melinda. “Get _off_ me.”

“Okay.” Melinda sat back on her heels and moved away from Skye. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Well you’re not. So just leave me alone.” She was a bad kid. She didn’t deserve this nice house, or these nice people, or to go to her nice school and have a nice friend.

Phil stood behind Melinda. “We haven’t finished our talk, Skye.”

Skye took a step towards him and put her hands on her hips. “Yes, we have. Talk over.”

Phil’s gaze hardened in a way Skye hadn’t seen in him before. “That attitude is not okay.”

Skye laughed. She’d ruined it now. Just another family that hadn’t worked out. Another one to add to her ever-growing file of failed placements. She’d be back at St Agnes’ before the sun went down. Nothing she could do about it now. She laughed again as tears streamed down her face. She was getting sick of crying.

“Does it look like I really care what you think about my attitude?” Skye turned away from them because she didn’t want to see their faces. Usually when she acted like this it was to the nuns, or to fosterers she really couldn’t have cared less about, but Mel and Phil were special, and if they were going to send her back, well, Skye didn’t want to remember them as being mad.

Skye crossed the threshold to the living room, to see all four of the others standing around, looking at her.

“Come back here, Skye.” Mel said from behind her. “Now.”

“No.” She said. Bobbi and Hunter seemed to be watching her with quiet caution, but Clint and Nat looked genuinely concerned. Clint had an arm around Natasha’s shoulders.

“Please,” Nat said, “stop this, malyutka.”

Skye narrowed her eyes at Natasha. It wasn’t fair to be mean to Tasha. Natasha had been nothing but loving to Skye, but she was just _so frustrated_ and angry with herself, that the words were coming out even though she didn’t mean them.

“Shut up. Stay out of it.” Skye felt herself getting hysterical.

“Malyutka-,”

“Shut _up._ I hate you.” It was out before Skye even had the power to stop it.

Natasha’s expression didn’t change, but she removed Clint’s arm from around her shoulder and calmly walked away, back up the stairs. Clint followed.

“Uh-uh.” Bobbi said. She folded her arms and took a step towards Skye. “You don’t talk to your sister like that.”

“She’s not my sister and neither are you.” Even as she said it, Skye didn’t believe her words.

“Fine.” Bobbi said. “Then you _do not_ talk to _my_ sister in that way.”

Hunter put his hand on Bobbi’s arm and she covered it with her own. Bobbi wasn’t like Natasha. Her expression wasn’t unreadable. She looked sad. Skye had upset her. Skye had upset _everyone._

They were going to send her back.

She didn’t want to leave.

Skye didn’t want to leave her family.

“Think about the decisions, the choices you are making right now, Skye.” Mel said.

Skye whipped around to look at her. She wanted to stay. She wanted to be good. “I’m being bad because I’m bad.” She said.

That was the only way Skye could think to explain it. She _felt_ bad. Angry. Mad. And frightened that she couldn’t stop it. She sobbed. “I’m so bad. I’m so sorry.”

Melinda’s face fell and she dropped down to her knees in front of Skye. She put a hand on her cheek, and when Skye attempted to pull away, she didn’t let her.

“You are good. You are.” Mel said. “I know you are, and I know you’re only acting this way because you can’t help it.” Melinda’s eyes flicked to where Natasha had disappeared up the stairs, then back to Skye. “Please don’t believe you’re not good.”

Skye shook her head. “But I’m bad.” She held on to Melinda’s arms, desperate for her to understand. “I’m being bad _right now_.”

Mel smiled. “So stop.” She said gently.

Skye frowned. “I…I can’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because,” Skye closed her eyes and thought. She wanted to stop. She _wanted_ to be good all of the time. But she just couldn’t…It didn’t happen that way. “Because I’m so mad.” She said.

“Tell me,” Melinda said gently, “what does it feel like right now?” She tapped Skye’s chest and tapped Skye’s temple. “What’s going on in there?”

“It’s like…there’s only that.” Skye struggled over her words. “I’m only mad.” She said. “Angry, but nothing else.”

Melinda stroked her cheek. “And it sucks, right?”

“Yeah. It does.” Skye began to feel the anger fading, being replaced with the all too familiar feeling of guilt and anxiety. “I don’t like it, Mel.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Melinda pulled her into a hug, and exhausted, Skye collapsed against her. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be alright.”

Skye gripped the back of her shirt. She didn’t want Melinda to let her go. Maybe if she held on tight enough, they wouldn’t be able to send her away.

“I don’t want to leave.” She sniffed.

“Leave?” Melinda pulled back slightly to look at Skye, but the little girl kept her grip on her tight. “Why would you be leaving?”

“Because…” Skye wiped her eyes on her shoulder to avoid letting go of Melinda. “…Because, you’re gonna send me back. Please, I don’t wanna go back, Melinda.” She looked over to Phil. “I wanna stay here.”

“Honey,” Phil crouched down beside Melinda and wiped the tears from Skye’s cheeks, “I thought we established this. You’re staying with us, forever.”

Mel nodded in agreement. “Skye, when I told you we were never going to take you back to the orphanage, I _meant_ it. You’re my baby girl and I want you to be with me forever.”

A weight that had been pressing Skye down into the centre of the Earth since kicking that boy yesterday had been lifted from her shoulders with Melinda and Phil’s assurances. She sobbed in relief and buried her face in Mel’s shoulder. Skye could feel herself shaking.

Melinda stood up and lifted Skye with her. “I love you, Skye.” She kissed her head. “And I’m going to make sure we’re together forever.”

“I love you, too.” Skye mumbled into Mel’s shoulder. “M’sorry for what I said.”

“I forgive you.” Melinda kissed Skye’s cheek. “It’s over now. But Phil and I are going to talk, and we’ll be giving you an appropriate punishment.”

Skye nodded. She didn’t mind. Quite frankly, Mel and Phil could tell her she had to clean the inside of the toilets with her bare hands every day for the rest of her life and as long as Skye could stay, she wouldn’t care. As long as she had her family, Skye didn’t care.

It was then that it occurred to her. Skye pulled away from Melinda with a panicked look. “I have to go say ‘sorry’.” She said, wiggling down from Melinda’s arms.

Skye turned around and shuffled over to Bobbi and Hunter. Both of them were sat on the back of the sofa. Hunter gave her a little smile, which made Skye feel infinitely better, because Bobbi still looked upset and that made Skye’s heart feel heavy.

The little girl nibbled on her thumb as she stood beside Bobbi and Hunter. Bobbi stood up and Skye had to really crane her neck to look up at her because of her height.

“I’m sorry I said mean things to you.” Skye said. She wished her voice would have come out louder, but Bobbi seemed to hear her okay. The woman nodded. “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry. I still want you to be my big sister.”

Bobbi’s expression changed from one of hurt to one of pure love and comfort, in half a second. She kneeled down to Skye’s level and smiled at her brightly. “I forgive you, Skye. As long as you’re sorry.”

“I am.” Skye said quickly. “I promise.”

“And I promise I’ll be your big sister.” Bobbi chuckled. “No matter what you say to me.”

Even though Bobbi seemed completely over Skye’s outburst, it didn’t change the fact that Skye still felt enormously guilty over her actions.

“You were upset.” Skye said.

Bobbi shrugged. “I was. I was sad you said mean things to me and I was _really_ sad that you were mean to Tasha, because I love my sisters. I don’t want _anyone_ to be mean to Tash, _or_ to you. But you’re sorry, and I forgive you, so that’s that. We’re all good.”

“Okay.” Skye said, a little unsure.

Bobbi kissed her forehead and stood up.

Hunter looked around the room and clapped. “Well, that was certainly an eventful morning, but I’m still wearing my pyjamas and I have yet to take a shower, so if you’ll excuse me.” He kissed Bobbi on the cheek and ruffled Skye’s hair, before jogging off up the stairs.

Melinda came up behind Skye and put both of her hand on her shoulders. “We all need to get dressed, I think.” She said.

Phil snorted. “ _I’m_ dressed.”

“Fine.” Melinda said, and without looking up Skye could tell she was smiling. “You can make breakfast, then.”

“Fine.”

“You, little one.” Melinda patted Skye’s head until she looked up at her. “You need to go and get dressed, and then you can have some breakfast and we’re going to have a good day. Yeah?”

“Yes.” Skye said. “A good day.” She looked towards the stairs. “But first I gotta say ‘sorry’ to Natasha.”

“You might want to leave it a little while.” Bobbi said.

“Why?”

Mel stroked her hair. “Just because Natasha might want to be alone for a little while. Well, alone with Clint.”

Skye rubbed her thumb on her lips. “Because I upset her.”

“Why don’t you go get dressed?” Mel said. “You’ll be able to talk to Tasha later.”

“Okay.”

Melinda crouched down and hugged Skye. “I love you. No matter what, I love you.” She rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “Phil and I, we will never, _ever_ send you away.”

“Promise.” Phil said. “Cross my heart.”

Mel smiled. “And mine.”

Skye smiled back. “I love you, too. And I’m sorry.”

“You’re a good girl.” Melinda said, standing up. She looked to Bobbi. “Can you take her upstairs, Bob? Make sure she gets dressed? I need to speak to your father.”

Bobbi nodded and held out her hand to Skye. “Come on, little sis. Let’s make sure Hunter’s coping without me for five minutes.”

Skye took Bobbi’s hand but hesitated to leave with her. She looked up at Melinda. She didn’t really want to leave Mel and Phil.

Melinda seemed to sense this. “We’ll be down here, okay, sweetheart? The quicker you get dressed, the quicker you can come back down and get breakfast.”

“Okay.” Skye allowed Bobbi to lead her upstairs and into her bedroom.

…

After Skye’s unexpected outburst, Melinda’s previous feelings of exhaustion were coming back with a vengeance, having brought a headache with them. She followed Phil into the kitchen and dropped down into one of the chairs.

Before she got the chance, Phil spoke. “I think we need to get some help for Skye.”

She sighed and dropped her head to the counter. The cool marble was like heaven. “My thoughts exactly.” She felt a hand on her back.

“You okay, Mel? You’re not getting sick, right?”

She chuckled at his concern and lifted her head. “I already told you this morning, I’m _fine.”_ Mel smirked at him. “It’s ‘stress sickness’. I distinctly remember this happening with Tasha.”

“Ah yes.” Phil kissed her temple. “I think we both had ‘stress sickness’ with our dear little Bubba.” He leaned over the counter. “I certainly puked at least once.”

“Was that when she gave you a concussion with a plant pot?” Mel smirked.

“Yes. Yes it was. And I don’t wish to relive the event.”

“Fair enough.” Melinda smiled. Her smile fell however, when she thought about her youngest daughter. “We need to find someone who can help Skye. Something’s going on with our little girl that she can’t control. I think it might be beyond us.”

Phil nodded. He wrapped an arm around Melinda’s shoulders and she rested her head on his chest. He hugged her close. “What about Nat’s doctor? She really helped her when we couldn’t.”

Melinda shook her head. “I’m not sure she would be appropriate for Skye. She specialises in teenagers. Skye needs…” She wrapped both arms around Phil’s waist. “I think Skye needs a specialist child psychologist.”

“Poor thing. She’s too young to understand what’s happening to her. It’s not fair. This is someone’s fault, Melinda.”

She shook her head. “More than one someone. More than one person hurt our little girl, and they’re still hurting her.” Her eyes burned. “It’s _not_ fair.”

“She’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it. Skye’s going to be okay, more than okay. You’ll see.”

Mel smiled. “I trust you.” She reached up to kiss him. “So it’s decided? First thing tomorrow we look into getting Skye some help?”

“I think so. Do we talk to her about it now, or...?”

“Let her have today. I don’t know how she’ll feel about it when we tell her.” Melinda knew from reading Skye’s file that she had been to see more than one child psychologist, and from what the file reported, each visit had not ended well.

“Okay.” Phil said. “Oh, what about her punishment? We need to punish her.”

Melinda’s headache was kicking her butt enough that she could barely be bothered to think up a punishment for Skye’s behaviour, but frankly, she didn’t trust Phil’s judgement. He would probably just tell Skye she wasn’t allowed to read any Captain America stories before bed.

“What about,” Phil said, “if Skye wasn’t allowed to have any Captain America bedtime stories?”

Melinda had to bit her lip to keep from laughing.

Phil seemed to think for a moment. “Actually no. No, that’s far too harsh.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “How about no TV and she has to go to bed early for a week?”

“A week’s a little long, Mel.” Phil was such a softie. “Three days.”

She cocked a brow at him. “A week.”

“Five days?”

“One _week_. She needs to understand that actions, no matter how much they may not be her fault, have consequences.”

Phil rubbed his nose against hers. “You drive a hard bargain, Mel. But I love you.”

“You’re too much of a pushover, Philip. But,” She kissed him, “I love you.”

…

Bobbi sat on Skye’s desk chair while she waited for Skye to get dressed. She had every faith that the eight-year-old was perfectly capable of getting ready by herself, but after the morning’s explosion, she was a little weary of leaving her alone.

The woman watched as Skye carefully folded her pyjamas and placed them at the foot of her bed. She hovered by the bed, rubbing the sleeve of her sweater over her lips.

“You okay, little sis?” Bobbi asked.

Skye nodded, then immediately shook her head. “Clint has my bear.”

“Oh.” Bobbi had heard all about the late night bed hopping from Natasha.

The little girl crossed the room to Bobbi. “Can I go and see Natasha now?”

So that was what she really wanted. Bobbi understood Skye’s need to apologise, but it had only taken one look at Nat’s face to see how upset she had been. Another person may not have been able to pick up on it, but with Tasha, the less expressive she was, usually, the more upset she was.

“Why don’t we let Natasha get dressed, hmm?” Bobbi suggested. She picked up the hairbrush from Skye’s desk, and her little sister automatically turned around to allow Bobbi to brush her hair.

“Is she mad at me?” Skye asked quietly.

“I think she’s just upset.” Bobbi pulled Skye’s hair back into a ponytail.

Some things upset Natasha more than others. For a teenager with a front as hard as nails, she had a sensitive soul. Nat tended to get over things herself, well, with the help of Clint. It wasn’t worth interrupting Natasha’s alone time for Skye to apologise. Bobbi knew from experience, it was best just to leave Nat alone for the time being.

“Come here, sweetie.” Bobbi said, turning Skye around to stand in front of her. “Natasha loves you, she does, but I think what you said hurt her and she needs a little time to herself.”

“But I want to tell her that I’m sorry.” Skye said.

Bobbi could see she just wasn’t getting through to Skye. The little girl seemed to be struggling with the concept of leaving Nat to cool off. A different idea struck her.

“Hey, how about we go downstairs, into the playroom, and you can maybe write Nat a letter.” It had always worked for Bobbi in the past when she had upset Nat. Plus it hopefully would keep Skye occupied for a while.

Skye looked down at her feet. “M’not very good at writing.”

“That’s okay, I’ll help you.” Bobbi said, and Skye’s face brightened.

“I want to do that.” Skye said with a nod. “Please.”

“Great. But first I need to get dressed.” Bobbi looked down at her pyjamas. “Come on, little sis, you can help me pick out my clothes.”

…

Skye felt a lot better after eating breakfast. She was still feeling sad because Natasha and Clint were still up in their room, and no one seemed to want to allow her to go and see them, but Bobbi had said she would help Skye write an apology note to Nat. She thought that if she wrote the right thing, and made it really neat, that Natasha would forgive her for being so mean.

“So you’re going to hang out with Bobbi today?” Melinda asked, taking Skye’s empty plate from her. Mel took Hunter’s plate, too, despite the fact that he was still eating. “You snooze, you lose.”

Hunter huffed but didn’t say anything. He made a funny face at Skye, making her smile.

“Yeah,” Skye looked away from Hunter and back to Melinda, “Bobbi’s gonna help me write Natasha a sorry note.” Skye said.

Mel nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, “sounds great. I’m sure Tasha will love it.”

“And what are you planning on doing today, Hunter?” Mel asked.

Before he could even answer, Phil said, “He’s going to help me paint the fence in the back yard.”

“Wait, what?” Hunter spluttered.

“The fence needs to be painted before it gets too cold out.” Phil said by way of explanation.

Lance frowned. “I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to you having your tongue in my daughter’s mouth.”

“ _Phil.”_

_“Dad.”_

Skye just laughed as Hunter’s face went scarlet.

“Fine. I’ll help.” He grumbled.

“Hey, Dad.” Bobbi asked from Skye’s other side. Her cheeks were a little pink, too. “Do we have anything I could use to make a door sign?”

“I’ve got some balsa wood in the garage. Will that do?” Phil said.

Bobbi smiled. “Great.” She nudged Skye will her elbow. “Would you like me to paint you a sign for your bedroom door? Everyone else has got one. Seems like it’s your turn.”

“Yes, please.” Skye tugged on Bobbi’s hand. “You’ll really paint me one? With my name on and everything?”

Bobbi laughed and looked over her head at Hunter. Skye followed her gaze. Lance grinned at her, too.

“Of course, honey.” Bobbi said. “And then everyone will know which one is your bedroom.”

Skye jumped down from her seat and pulled on Bobbi’s hand. “Let’s go. Let’s go.”

“I’m coming, hold your horses.”

They began walking to the playroom. Skye looked up at Bobbi. “What horses?”

Bobbi smiled brightly. “Don’t worry about it.”

…

Skye wanted her letter to Natasha to be perfect. She had said she hated her. Skye was ashamed of herself. It was something that she didn’t mean, couldn’t have been father from the truth and frankly, Skye was terrified that Nat would decide she no longer wanted her for a sister. She was also worried Clint would hate her, too for hurting Natasha.

Bobbi sat beside her at the desk in the playroom so that she could help while she made the sign for Skye’s bedroom door. Skye had meticulously chosen the colour construction paper- green, because that’s what colour Nat’s eyes were. She had picked out some stickers to decorate the outside of the paper- Skye couldn’t find any spiders, but there were some ladybugs with flowers so she used them. All the words in the letter were Skye’s own, but Bobbi was always there to help with the spellings.

Skye looked over her letter after she signed her name at the end. “I think I’m done.” She said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“I think so.” She passed the letter over to Bobbi for her to look at. “See.”

Bobbi looked it over and got a funny look on her face. Maybe it wasn’t very good, Skye thought.

“You don’t like it?” Skye said quietly.

Bobbi smiled. “No, it’s not that.” She passed it back to her. “I think it’s perfect, Skye. I’m sure Natasha will love it.”

“Should I go and give it to her?”

“Well,” Bobbi said, “leave it a little longer. I know, why don’t you draw her a picture?”

“I don’t like drawing.” Skye said as an automatic response. It wasn’t strictly true, but she didn’t want to talk about the reasoning right now.

“That’s too bad,” Bobbi said, “because I think Nat would really like it if you made her a picture.”

That changed things. Skye looked back down at her letter and thought how much better it would be if it had a picture to go with it.

“But what would I draw?” She looked up at Bobbi.

“Anything.” Her big sister shrugged.

“But I’m not good at drawing like you, Bobbi.” She looked down at the wood Bobbi was pencilling on.

“I’m sure you’re great, Skye. Just think about what Nat likes. Draw that.”

Skye thought about Lulu the tarantula and Charlotte the spider. Maybe she could draw them. And Clint liked dogs. Skye could draw a dog.

She decided on plain white paper to draw, and Bobbi passed her a pencil to use. Drawing spiders was way easier than drawing dogs, Skye decided, so she only drew one puppy, and filled the rest of the paper with drawings of Lulu and Charlotte. In some of the pictures Skye drew little bows on Lulu’s head.

At some point between drawing Lulu number six and Charlotte number four, Bobbi and Hunter switched places. Bobbi went outside to spray some paint onto the door sign and Lance returned for a break from painting the fence with Phil.

“How’s the letter going?” He asked, plopping down on the couch.

“I’m done.” Skye said. She didn’t show him like she had shown Bobbi. “I’m drawing a picture for Clint and Nat now. See.” Skye held up the paper to Hunter.

He smiled. “I like your dog.” He said. “Looks like a cutie.”

She was thrilled. The puppy had been the hardest to draw.

“You going to colour it in?” He asked.

“I think so.” Skye said. “But I can’t find any colours.” There was a drawer with some crayons in by the desk, but they were fat and hard to use and keep in the lines. Skye wanted to make sure it was neat for her big sister.

Lance kicked his shoes off and put his feet up on the sofa, settling a cushion behind his head. “Bob’s got loads of pens and stuff upstairs. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you used some of them.”

“Maybe I should ask her first.” Skye mused. She didn’t just want to go rifling through Bobbi’s things.

“Nah.” Lance waved a hand. “S’fine. Just run upstairs into our room. It’s full of art stuff. I promise she won’t mind, Skye.”

Skye picked up her picture and as a second thought, picked up the letter, she didn’t want Lance to see it. She didn’t mind sharing with Bobbi, because sisters told each other everything, but Lance wasn’t allowed.

“Okay, then.” Skye said. “If Bobbi comes back, tell her that’s where I am.”

“Will do, little one.” Lance said, his eyes already closed.

Walking through the house, Skye caught the view of the backyard through the kitchen windows. Phil and Melinda were chatting by the fence, and Bobbi was bent over something on the grass. Skye had been mean to all of those people standing out there. And what had they done to her? Been loving and caring, and kind to her. She should really have written letters to all of them.

Skye jogged up the stairs and turned into the hallway with Bobbi’s room in sight, but she stopped abruptly when Natasha’s bedroom door opened and Clint stepped out.

“Hey.” He said, catching sight of her. He nodded at the paper in her hands. “You been drawing?”

“It’s for Natasha.” She said quietly. “To say sorry.”

“I see.” Clint said. “Would you like to give it to her?”

Skye looked down at the letter. Her picture wasn’t finished, but everyone else said she should leave Nat alone, and Skye was a little worried she might not get another opportunity to give her letter to Natasha.

“Yes, please.”

Clint stepped aside and held the door open for Skye. She looked down at her letter, too nervous to look up in case Natasha didn’t want to see her.

“Nat,” He said gently, “Skye’s got something for you.”

Clint put a hand on Skye’s back and ushered her into Nat’s bedroom.

“Go on.” He said kindly to Skye. “Go see your big sister.” Clint squeezed her shoulder. “I’m gonna go pick that _thing_ up, Nat. I’ll be back later, okay, baby?”

“See you later. Love you.” Nat said.

“Love you, too.”

Skye dared to look up as Clint left the room. Natasha sat cross-legged on the bed, Charlotte the plush spider on one side of her, and Mr. Snow on the other side. She kept her eyes on the bed, even as Skye walked over to her.

For a moment, Skye thought Natasha was simply completely ignoring her, but as she approached the bed, she realised that Nat’s attention was purely focused on Lulu the tarantula, who was crawling around on the bed. Skye wanted to touch her, but she kept both hands on her letter and picture.

“Don’t tell Mom.” Nat said, eyes still on her pet.

“What?” Skye asked, following Lulu’s movements with her eyes.

“I’m not supposed to let Lulu out of her tank, but she needs exercise so…” Nat shrugged, “Just don’t tell Mom I had her out.”

“Okay.” Skye said. “I promise.” She would have promised Natasha the moon at that point if she thought it would make her forgive Skye’s hurtful words.

Tasha allowed Lulu to crawl onto her hand, and she gently lifted the tarantula into her tank.

“You have something for me?” Nat asked.

For the first time she looked up at Skye and Skye immediately wanted to look down. Natasha wasn’t smiling at her like she usually did. She didn’t look sad either, or angry, or anything else. Natasha just looked…expressionless. It made Skye’s chest feel tight.

Skye held out the letter. “I wrote you this to say ‘sorry’.” She said in a small voice. “M’sorry for what I said to you.”

Nat took the letter and Skye waited patiently while Nat’s eyes roamed it.

“I wanted to put spiders on it but I could only find ladybugs.” Skye said.

Natasha looked up from the paper. “You wrote this yourself?”

“Yes. Well, Bobbi helped me spell some of the words.”

Natasha looked back down. Skye shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Come here, malyutka.” Nat said, and Skye could have cried in relief.

She climbed onto the bed and threw herself into Natasha’s arms. Tasha returned the hug as she settled Skye onto her lap.

“I’m sorry.” Skye said. “I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t mean it.”

Natasha pulled away from Skye and held the letter in front of her. “Read it to me. I’d like to hear it from you. Read me the letter.”

Skye nodded and took the letter. “The whole thing?”

“Yes.”

“’Kay.” Skye looked down at the letter. She leaned back against Nat’s chest and began to read.

“To Natasha,” Skye said, “I am sorry that I said some really mean things to you. I did not mean them. I am so sorry that I…”

Skye paused over the next part of the letter, it had been hard enough to write down and relive what she had said earlier that day, she was reluctant to say it out loud. “I- I am so sorry that I said I hated you. I do not. I love you. I love you more than Phil loves Cap…Capt…” she spelled out the word, “Captain America which is a lot because Phil really loves Captain America.”

Nat’s arms around her tightened and Skye thought she heard her chuckle.

“I never want to hurt your feelings ever again.” Skye continued. “I hope that you want to still be my big sister because I love you. I want you to be my sister for forever and ever.” And Skye wasn’t sure she had been more truthful about anything else in her entire life.

“I am so sorry I was mean to you. You are always nice to me. I hope you will for...forgive me. Yours sin…sin…” She struggled over the word Bobbi had told her how to spell.

“Sincerely.” Natasha supplied.

“Yours sincerely, Skye.” Skye let Natasha take the letter out of her hands, and place it on her bedside cabinet.

“Skye.” Nat said.

Skye looked up at her.

“I forgive you, Skye.”

“You do?” She asked. “Even though I made you sad?”

“Yes. Malyutka, I love you, and I forgive you. You hurt my feelings, but it’s okay. I know you’re sorry.” She hugged Skye close. “I’m going to be your big sister forever and ever…” She tickled Skye’s sides, making her giggle, “…and ever and ever and ever…”

Skye laughed as Nat tickled her, gasping for breath through the laughter. Natasha stopped her onslaught, and gently rocked Skye in her arms.

“I love you, malyutka.”

“I love you, too, Tasha.”

Natasha looked down at the other piece of paper still in Skye’s hand. “What’s this?”

“I made a drawing for you.” Skye said quietly. “S’not finished. I wanted to colour it. That’s why I came upstairs. Hunter said I could go get some of Bobbi’s colours out of her room.”

“Can I see?”

Skye handed her the picture. “That’s Lulu.” Skye pointed out. “With a bow, and that’s Charlotte.”

“They’re awesome.” Nat smiled. “And who’s this?” She pointed to the dog.

“Oh, I wanted to make it for Clint, too, so I drew a dog for him.”

Tasha laughed. “I’m sure he’ll love it. “

“I wanted to colour it, but…”

“Well, why don’t we colour it together?” Nat asked.

“Really?”

“Sure. Come on,” Nat patted Skye’s leg, “we’ll go get Bobbi’s colours and colour it together.”

The two sisters left the drawing in Natasha’s room, to go to Bobbi’s and find some art supplies. The bedroom door was already open as they approached and Natasha strode in.

“Wow.” She said, looking around at the mess in her older sister’s room. “Looks like Bobbi needs to clear this up.”

Skye nodded. There were suitcases and clothes covering most of the carpet, and the bed was unmade. It was then that Skye noticed.

“Bobbi’s got a Captain America sheets.” She grinned.

Nat chuckled, opening a couple of drawers by the bedroom door. “Dad bought them for a joke, but she secretly loves them.”

“Bobbi loves Captain America, too?”

“It’s kind of hard not to when you live with our Dad.” Natasha frowned at the drawers. “Hey, Skye. Take a look in the desk for some pencils. Bob used to have some in here but I can’t find them.”

Skye obeyed and left her inspection of Bobbi’s bed to move over to the desk. The desk drawer was already ajar, so Skye slid the rest of it open. It was mostly filled with papers and other little trinkets like key rings and CDs that Skye scanned over. Her eyes landed on a pink fluffy pencil case, already open, with coloured pencils clearly visible inside.

“I found some.” Skye said, lifting the pencil case out of the desk.

Nat smiled. “Cool. Let me see?”

Skye passed over the pencil case, but in some error of perception, the case fell between Skye and Nat, landing on Bobbi’s carpet and spilling the pencils around the floor.

“Whoops.” Tasha said. “My fault.”

She kneeled down to begin scooping up the pencils, finding some that had rolled into the mess of clothing by the suitcases. Skye copied, picking up the main pile that had fallen by her feet. As she gathered them however, her fingers landed on something that was distinctly _not_ pencil-like.

“Hey, Tasha?” She asked picking up the items and holing them in her palm.

“Yeah, malyutka?” Nat continued to fish out the last of the pencils from the clothes.

“Why does Bobbi keep rings in with her pencils?”

Nat looked over. “Rings with her pencils?”

Skye showed her the three silver rings in her hand, and Nat’s face dropped. Tasha scooted forward and took Skye’s hand in her own, putting her face comically close to the jewellery.

“Oh my gosh.” Natasha breathed. She looked up at Skye with what could only be described as utter glee. “ _Oh my gosh.”_

“What?” Skye was extremely confused. They were only rings, and anyway, only one of them had a pretty stone on it. The other two were pretty plain. Nothing to be so excited over.

Nat grinned. “I think Bobbi and Hunter got married.” At Skye’s utter confusion, she pointed to the rings. “These are engagement and wedding rings. I’m sure.”

Skye looked back down at her palm. “How can you tell?”

“The one with the diamond is engagement. This one,” She pointed to the daintier ring, “is a woman’s wedding ring. And this one,” Nat picked up the thickest ring and held it in front of Skye, “is a man’s ring.”

“Oh.” Skye still wasn’t convinced, but Nat seemed sure.

Tasha scooped the other two rings out of Skye’s hand and stood up. “Come on, Skye.”

Skye followed Natasha out of the bedroom, down the hall and down the stairs, having to skip every few steps to keep up. Nat paused at the bottom of the stairs, looking around.

“Bobbi in the playroom?”

Skye shook her head. “She was outside when I came upstairs.”

Nat took off in the direction of the back door, looking back to check Skye was following. The two sisters burst into the back yard, one significantly more eager than the other, and both looked around for their eldest sister.

Bobbi kneeled on the grass, hunched over the sign she was making for Skye’s bedroom door, spraying something over it. She had her hair tied back, goggles on and a mask covering her face. Skye giggled. She looked like a scuba diver with the funny goggles on.

As they approached, Bobbi stopped her spraying and removed her goggles, pushing the mask down to hang around her neck. She grinned at them.

“Hey, you two. Are we all friends again?”

“Yep.” Skye nodded. “Tasha liked my letter.”

“Awesome.” Bobbi smiled. “I’m just finishing up your door sign. Wanna see?”

“Yeah.” Skye grinned, and rushed towards Bobbi, only to have Nat stop her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Actually,” Nat said, “we have something we need to discuss with you. Right Skye?”

Skye was so interested in seeing Bobbi’s work on her door sign that it took her a moment to remember the original reason for her and Nat to come outside in the first place. The rings remained at the back of her mind.

“Oh. Yeah.”

Bobbi looked between them. “What’s going on?” She stood up.

Natasha held out her hand, showing the rings to Bobbi. Bobbi gasped and rushed forward.

“Nat, I-,”

“Did you get _married?_ ” Nat interrupted, and Bobbi slapped a hand over her mouth. Even with her mouth covered Skye could tell she was grinning. “Mrmph mmrpph mmmrrrmph.” With Bobbi’s hand over her mouth, Nat’s speech was incomprehensible.

“Shut up, Natasha.” Bobbi hissed, then ripped her hand away from Nat’s mouth. “Ow! You bit me!” She looked half scandalised, half like she was trying not to burst into laughter.

Natasha shook her head, grinned so widely that too many teeth seemed to be showing. “Bobbi, I can’t believe you got married!”

“You did _what_?”

All three sisters slowly turned to the back door of the house, where Melinda stood with her hands on her hips, and a livid expression on her face.

“Oh, shit.” Bobbi breathed.

“No one move.” Nat muttered.

Melinda stepped out of the house menacingly. “Barbara Morse-Coulson, what the _hell_ did you do?”

Bobbi and Nat took a step back, and Skye looked around her, contemplating whether it would be more beneficial to side with them or Mel.

“ _Barbara_.” Mel warned.

“I think she’s gonna kill you.” Nat said to Bobbi.

“I’m so sorry Mommy.” Bobbi gave her a terrified smile, and she and Nat took yet another step back.

Mel glared. “Yeah, you better be.”

Skye looked between the two parties, and rushed over to Melinda, wrapping her arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. She would do what she could for her big sisters.

“Melinda, I love you more than I ever loved a foster mom _ever_.” Skye turned on her best ‘cute face’ and looked up at Mel. At least she wasn’t telling lies.

Melinda’s expression softened and she stroked Skye’s hair. “I love you, too, baby girl, but I know what you’re doing.”

Skye feigned ignorance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just wanted to tell you all of the reasons why I love you so much.”

Mel rolled her eyes fondly.

“One,” Skye began, “you give the best hugs I ever got from anyone. Two; when I feel sad you can always make me feel better. Three-,”

“Skye.” Mel interrupted.

“You promised I could stay here forever.” Skye continued, unperturbed. “Four-,”

“Skye.” Mel said louder, still smirking. “I know you’re just trying to save your sisters. But one of them in particular is in a lot of trouble so stop stalling.”

“Stalling?” Skye said innocently. “I have absolutely no idea whatever you could possibly mean, Melinda.” She hugged her even tighter when she caught sight of Nat and Bobbi out of the corner of her eye. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Mel said. “Bobbi and Natasha, where do you think you’re going?” She called, still smiling down at Skye.

Skye expected her older sisters to stop in their tracks, but they continued running across the grass towards the gate at the end of the yard.

“We’re running away.” Nat called. “Bye, Mom.”

“Get back here. Now.” Mel shouted.

“No thank you.” Bobbi called, opening the gate. “I’ll come back later when I’m more confident you won’t kill me. I love you, Mommy. Please don’t kill my husband!”

The two girls disappeared through the gate, and Melinda looked down at Skye.

“You’ve been spending too much time with your sisters.” She smiled.

Skye grinned. “I love you.”

“Yes.” Melinda bent over to kiss her nose. “I got that.”

Hunter chose that moment to appear at the back door, looking around the yard and rubbing his eyes.

“You seen Bob? I must’ve fell asleep.” He looked at Melinda as she glared at him.

Skye kept her grip on Mel tight. She liked Hunter, and she didn’t really want Bobbi’s husband to get beat up.

Hunter stepped onto the patio. “What’s going on?”

Skye smiled at him sympathetically. “I’d run if I was you.”

“Sorry?”

Melinda shifted her grip on Skye. “You married my daughter. I’d run _very_ fast, Lance Hunter.”

“Oh, fucking hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so supportive and understanding. :)


	14. Skye's Busy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter to apologise for the very long wait since the last one. I'm so sorry, I've just been so busy with uni, but i'm one week away from being finished FOREVER!!!! Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, and to the people I have been speaking with via tumblr. I've loved getting to know you.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

Natasha and Bobbi sprinted from the back yard, giggling and looking back towards the fence, behind which, their very angry mother stood.

“Where are we going?” Nat grinned, slowing her sprint to a sprightly jog, following her big sister.

“Somewhere we can lay low for a while.” Bobbi said.

“For how long?”

Bobbi turned to Nat. “Just until Mom calms down a bit.”

“You know I have to go back to college next week?” She smirked.

“I know that was a joke,” Bobbi said, “but I’m genuinely concerned that if I return too soon, I might get murdered, and if I go back too late, Hunter will be dead.” She stopped running when they reached the main road and bent over, resting her hands on her knees. “And I’d much prefer a live husband to a dead one.”

Nat shook her head, resting against a street light. “I still can’t believe you got _married_. Bobbi that’s crazy.”

Bobbi stood up straight, looking around the empty street. “I thought you’d be mad, you know?” She looked to Nat. “I was going to tell you last night. Hell, I was going to tell you three weeks ago when it happened, but…” She shrugged. “I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Why? Why would I be mad?” Nat said. They crossed the road at a slow jog. “My big sister got _married_. I’m thrilled, Bobbi.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Nat patted her on the arm as they walked together. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“I’m still sorry, Tasha. It just, I guess it just happened so fast.” She shook her head.

“How did he ask you, Bobbi?” Nat grinned. “How did Hunter ask?”

Bobbi snorted, nudging Nat with her elbow. “Remember when I used to say the last thing I ever wanted was to be proposed to in public? Like in a restaurant with a ring in my champagne glass or something cheesy like that?”

Nat gawked. “He didn’t?”

“No. He didn’t. Thank God.” Bobbi laughed. “In fact,” she frowned, “Lance kind of did the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“He shouted ‘marry me, you hell beast’ while we were having sex.”

Nat grimaced. “How romantic.”

“I know, right?” Bobbi smiled, completely sincere.

Nat rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m happy for you and Hunter. I love you both. I mean, you more, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Bobbi stopped, turning to Natasha and putting a hand on her cheek. “I love you so much.”

Nat smiled. “Now you’re just getting sappy.”

“I do.” Bobbi laughed, bending to Nat’s level. “I do, little sissy. I love you.”

A group of high school kids walked past, giving the two sisters strange looks, a few of them laughing behind their hands. Nat blushed and tried to pull away but Bobbi was relentless.

She hugged Natasha. “Oh my little Bubba.” She said loudly as the high school kids passed. “I love you, I do. You’re my beautiful baby sissy and I love you, Tasha.”

“Bobbi, stop.”

The school kids pointed and snickered.

“Tashy.” Bobbi kissed her reddening cheeks. “I love my baby Tasha.”

“Bobbi. _Stop.”_

“I love you, I do. My baby-,” Bobbi let Natasha go. “Okay they’re gone.”

Nat glared at her older sister. “I hate you.”

Bobbi grinned and began walking away. “I love you, too, _Tashy_.”

Nat huffed and followed behind. “I should have stayed with Skye.”

…

When Skye had told Hunter to run, she hadn’t _actually_ thought he would run away.

She was wrong.

Hunter took one look at May, acknowledged the threat, and sprinted through the garden to the opposite fence, vaulted _over_ the eight-foot fence, and from the clatter Skye heard, she assumed, fell.

“I’m fine.” Hunter called through the fence. “I am bleeding. But I’m fine.”

“I don’t care.” Mel shouted back. “When I said run fast, I meant it. I’m allowing you a head start before I kick your ass.”

“Bloody hell.”

After that, all Skye heard was the sound of Hunter’s feet slapping on the pavement as he ran far away from the house.

Skye looked up at Melinda, arms still around her waist. “Where do you think he’s going?”

Mel shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t think he does either.” Melinda stared at the fence, almost as if she could see Hunter through it.

“You’re…you’re not _really_ going to kick his ass, are you?” Skye asked. She had no doubt her foster mom could kick Hunter’s butt six ways from Sunday if she wanted to.

Mel smirked. “Don’t say ‘ass’.”

“But you said ‘ass’.”

“I’m allowed to say it.”

Skye pouted. “Somehow that doesn’t seem fair.”

“But to answer your original question,” Mel brushed the flyaway hairs off Skye’s forehead, “no, I don’t plan on _actually_ beating Hunter up. I just wanted to scare him.”

“Oh. Good. I like Hunter.”

“You do?” Mel smiled.

“Yeah.” Skye nodded. “He’s funny. And Bobbi’s in love with him, y’know.”

“I know. I think that’s why they got married.” Melinda chuckled.

Skye turned to the fence Hunter had jumped and rested her ear on Mel’s belly. She could hear Melinda’s heart beating. “Your heart’s going pretty fast, y’know.” Skye informed her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

Melinda laughed. “I suppose that’ll be the shock.” She sighed. “Oh God. Phil can’t find out.”

“Why not?”

“Because if he finds out before I manage to ease him into the idea of Bobbi and Hunter being betrothed, he might _actually_ hurt Lance.”

“I see. What’s ‘betrothed’?”

“Married.” Mel clarified.

Skye bit her lip. “So I guess it’s probably best that Hunter and Bobbi ran away?”

Mel rubbed her back. “At least for now. I can’t believe she got married. When did she get married? _Where_ did she get married?”

Skye leaned away from Melinda, catching a glimpse of movement near the back door. “I don’t know why you’re asking me, Mel, but you might want to keep quiet if you don’t want Phil to find out.”

Melinda and Skye both turned to see a smiling Phil wave at them from across the yard.

“Hey guys. You seen Hunter? We need to finish painting the fence.”

Mel crouched down next to Skye, feigning fixing her hair. “Phil can’t find out about Bobbi, Skye. Not yet. He’ll have an aneurysm.” She whispered.

Skye smirked. “It’s not nice to lie.” Then, “What’s an aneurysm?”

“I’m not asking _you_ to lie. _I’ll_ lie. I’m asking _you_ to keep your lip zipped. And you’re very right, it’s wrong to lie, but these are very special circumstances. Aneurysms are bad. Just know that.” Melinda muttered. She smiled at Phil. “No, haven’t seen him.”

Phil huffed. “You seen him, Skye?”

Skye grinned at Mel and pretended to ‘zip her lip’.

“Skye, go find Clint.” Melinda said. “Get him to help Phil paint the fence.”

“Clint’s not here.” Skye shrugged.

Phil wandered over to stand by Mel, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Where is he?”

Skye shrugged again. “Said he was going to pick something up. I dunno.”

“Fine.” Phil shook his head. “Where are Nat and Bobbi?”

“They went out, too.” Mel supplied.

“I swear, every time I have chores for them, the kids disappear like the Nazis when Captain America is around.”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why the kids made themselves scarce.” She gave Skye a poignant look. “And could we cut down on the Nazi references?”

Phil kissed her cheek.

“I’ll help paint, Phil.” Skye piped up. The door sign Bobbi had been painting still resided on the plastic sheeting on the grass, and watching Bobbi paint it had made Skye want to try, too. Painting a fence was a little different perhaps, but using the big paintbrushes looked kind of fun.

“You will?” Phil sounded pleasantly surprised.

“Sure.” Skye smiled. “I can be a good assistant. Promise.”

“Great.” Phil gave her a high five. “Suit up.”

Skye frowned. “What?”

Melinda smiled. “He means go and get changed.”

“Oh.”

“Go put some old clothes on.” Mel said. “Something you don’t mind getting ruined if it gets paint on it.”

“Okay.” Skye nodded. “Wait here, Phil. I’m gonna go and suit up.”

Skye ran into the house and up to her room as quick as she could. She was trying to get up there so quickly that she tripped on the stairs, but the friction burn from the carpet on her knee only hurt a little bit compared to how excited she was to help Phil paint. Once in her room, it occurred to Skye that she didn’t really have any clothes she didn’t mind getting ruined. Most of her clothes were brand new, she hadn’t even had the chance to wear some of them yet after Mel and Phil had taken her shopping. She wanted to keep everything nice.

It suddenly struck Skye that she _did_ have something she wouldn’t mind ruining. The clothes she had arrived at Mel and Phil’s with were now long gone. Skye had been eager to help Melinda sort through and throw away the holy ones and donate the clothes that just didn’t fit, but a certain shirt had been being washed, and had been pushed to the back of one of her drawers.

The too-big green polo shirt was the only thing Skye really had left from the orphanage, from her life before Melinda and Phil. She pulled it on over her clothes and skipped back out to the back yard. She would be thrilled to ruin it.

“Okay. I’m ready.” Skye informed Phil, wandering over to the very tempting tin of green paint.

Melinda put a hand on her shoulder. “Do what Phil says, don’t get too messy, okay?”

Skye nodded. “Promise.”

Melinda kneeled down and kissed her cheek. “And,” She whispered in Skye’s ear, “please don’t tell Phil about Bobbi. I’m figuring it out.”

“Lip is zipped.” Skye grinned.

“You’re such a good girl.” Mel pointed at Skye. “But never, ever lie to me. Ever. Especially about getting married.”

“You’re giving me mixed signals.” Skye said.

Mel stood up and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve had a long day.” She turned to Phil. “I’m going to go and lie down.”

He nodded. “By the time you come back down, we’ll have this whole fence painted. Right, Skye?”

“Right.” She punched the air to prove her point.

…

Phil liked Lance Hunter. He did. He didn’t really want to think about his tongue in his daughter’s mouth or the fact that they shared a bed every night, but Phil didn’t really want to think about Bobbi with _anyone._ He supposed, if his eldest daughter _had_ to have a boyfriend, Lance Hunter was perhaps the best choice. Phil liked Hunter.

That being said, Hunter’s fence-painting skills were being completely dominated by eight-year-old Skye’s, and together, she and Phil had managed to finish the rest of the fence in less than two hours.

Skye lay back on the grass, wiping a drip of paint off her cheek and smearing it across her face in the process. Phil smiled.

“You’ve been a good helper today, Skye.” He put the paintbrush on top of the can. “Better than Hunter.”

“I like helping.” Skye said. “And this was fun helping. I never painted a fence before.”

“No?”

She shook her head.

“Well,” Phil stretched out next to her, “we’ve got the whole fence in the front yard to do at some point. Maybe you and I can do that next weekend?”

Her face lit up. “Just you and me, Phil?”

“You and me, kid.”

“Awesome.” Skye wiped her hands on the green shirt she wore over her clothes. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

Skye frowned and looked towards the garden gate.

Phil nudged her elbow. “What’s up?”

She looked down and bit her lip. “You love Bobbi no matter what, right?”

He was taken aback. “Of course, Skye. I love all my kids no matter what. Bobbi, Nat, Clint, _you_.”

She looked up at that.

Phil put a hand on her shoulder. “You know I love you, right?”

Skye smiled. “Yes.” She said quietly. “I love you, too.”

He hadn’t expected her to say it back. Phil had to take a deep breath. His eyes burned.

Skye clapped once. “But that’s not what I asked you.” Apparently their moment was over. “I was asking about Bobbi.”

“Skye, you know I love Bobbi. What’s got you asking me this?”

“I just need to know, Phil. For…” Skye looked back towards the gate. “…reasons.”

“Reasons?” Phil suspected that there was more behind Skye’s inquiries. “Skye, where’s Bobbi and Hunter?”

Skye folded her arms. “I can honestly say that I have no idea.”

“Okay. Tell me this,” Phil looked Skye in the eye, “should I be concerned.”

Skye stayed quiet for a few moments, seemingly having some sort of internal debate. “Probably.” She said eventually.

“How concerned should I be?”

The little girl hummed. “I’d say about a seven on a scale of one to ten.”

Phil cocked an eyebrow. “Seven’s pretty high.”

“What’s your ten?” Skye asked.

Phil thought about it. “I guess my ten on the concern scale would be like a nuclear disaster, or maybe an alien invasion where one of the aliens can control minds.” Perhaps he’d been reading too many comics.

Skye smirked. “Okay. Maybe this situation is a six, then.”

Phil rubbed his eyes. “And can you tell me anything about this situation, Skye?”

“I cannot.”

“Great.” He stood up and offered his hand to his little girl. “Come on, Skye. Let’s hang your sign Bobbi made on your bedroom door while I repress all these feelings of dread.”

Skye jumped up with a grin. “Great. Let’s go.”

At least he had Skye to keep him busy.

…

Natasha huffed.

“When you said we were going somewhere to ‘lay low’ I didn’t think you meant we were walking all the way to Steve’s place.” Nat groaned. “I’m getting blisters.”

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that. You run farther than this most mornings.”

“Not in these shoes.” Nat lifted her leg to shove her tennis shoes in her sister’s face.

Bobbi batted her away. “We ran away without much thought. This is the best I can do.” She folded her arms. “I didn’t even bring my phone.”

“Oh.” Natasha did a little half skip to catch up with Bobbi and her long legs. “I’ve got mine.”

“You’re kidding right?” Bobbi deadpanned.

“No.” Nat lifted the phone from her pocket to prove her point.

“We could have called a cab, Tasha.” Bobbi whined.

“And what would you have paid for it with? Your super cool paint-spraying mask?” Nat plucked the elastic on the mask still hanging around Bobbi’s neck.

Her older sister didn’t bother to dignify the bickering with a response, instead Bobbi picked up her pace and jogged the last few hundred yards to Steve’s apartment building, Natasha following behind. When they reached the building, Bobbi rang the buzzer and Steve’s voice came over the intercom.

_“Who is it, please?”_ He asked.

“Nat and Bobbi.” Bobbi said.

_“Oh hey, guys. What’s up?”_

“Can we come up? We need to hide from Mom and Dad.” Natasha told him.

_“Sure. But I want the whole story.”_ Steve said, and the door buzzed open.

Steve was already waiting by his front door when Bobbi and Natasha approached it. He was only a few years older than Bobbi; they’d gone to school together and had known each other since they were kids, but with his arms folded and a frown on his face, he made both sisters feel like they were back in school and being reprimanded by the principal.

“What did you do?” He asked before they could even enter his apartment.

“Hey, Steve.” Nat said. “Nice to see you, too.”

He stepped aside and allowed them to enter. “What did you do, Natasha?”

Nat let Bobbi pass into the living room, turning to Steve with a pout that made her look closer to twelve than nineteen. “ _I_ didn’t do anything...this time.”

“Oh?” Steve followed them into the living room and perched opposite the couch on the coffee table.

Bobbi glanced over at her sister sitting next to her on the couch, then back to Steve. “I did something and Mom found out and now I’m scared to go home.”

“Okay.” He said slowly. “Are you going to tell me what you did?”

The woman looked down at her knees, rubbing her palms over the denim. “I got married.”

“You did _what?”_ Maria Hill burst into Steve’s living room with utter shock drenching her face.

Natasha giggled from beside Bobbi.

“Wait,” Steve put up both hands, ignoring the fact that Maria had just appeared from his room, “Bobbi, you got married?”

She shrugged. “A little bit, yeah.”

Maria leaned on Steve. “Barbara Morse-Coulson-,”

“You don’t need to use my whole name-,”

“- You got _married?_ What the hell were you doing getting married?”

Bobbi sat up straighter and looked her friend up and down. “What were _you_ doing in Steve’s bedroom?” Rumours of Maria and Steve’s relationship had been making their way all the way back to Bobbi in England for a while, but Maria had insisted on the phone that nothing was going on.

Maria smirked. “Getting dressed. We had sex about thirty minutes ago.”

Well that plan to deflect backfired, Bobbi thought.

Steve’s face turned bright red.

“I knew you guys were at it like rabbits.” Natasha laughed. “Clint owes me ten dollars.” She plucked her phone out her pocket, presumably to text him. “Aww.” Tasha smiled at her screen.

“What?” Steve asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Natasha smiled, looking up from her phone. “So Steve, you’re sexing it up with Maria. Nice.”

Maria nodded. “No point hiding it now, I guess. All the secrets are out. Bobbi got married, Steve and I have been having lots of nasty sex-,”

Steve put a hand over his face. “Maria, please.”

“Yes.” Bobbi grimaced. “Maria, _please_. I don’t need to know the nature of your sex life. You’re my mother’s best friend.”

“The sex we had thirty minutes ago was on that couch.”

“Ahhh.” Nat and Bobbi simultaneously screamed and jumped up from the couch.

“Oh, God.” Tasha backed away from the sofa. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.”

“You know.” Steve said quietly. “This is not how I thought my day was going to go when I woke up this morning.”

…

Clint’s car was back in DC, and if he had asked, he was sure either Phil or Mel would have let him borrow theirs. Well, not Lola, but the minivan or something. As it was, Clint didn’t really want to draw attention to the fact that he had left the house that morning. He was relying solely on Natasha’s powers of deception and the fact that Bobbi and Hunter were home, to keep Mel and Phil from realising he was gone.

So far it seemed to be going well. He hadn’t had a phone call from either one of them, yet, asking where he was. He didn’t like lying to them, but there was no way he’d be able to tell them the truth. At least not yet.

Without the car, Clint had been forced to take the bus over to Trip’s place, but then Trip had taken the reins and they’d used his car to drive to the place. It took much longer than Clint had expected to reach the shelter, over an hour, and it was much farther out of town that it looked on the map he’d printed off line.

But they had been successful.

“So what’s the plan?” Trip asked from the driver’s seat. He looked at Clint in the rear-view mirror. “You know Phil’s gonna flip, right?”

Clint nodded in the back seat, then realised Trip had turned back to the road. “Yeah.” He said. “But I’m hoping Phil’ll just see him and fall in love like I did. Then he’ll forgive me for going behind his back.”

Deceiving Mel and Phil gave Clint a bad feeling in his gut, one he tried to avoid at most costs, but for the animal lying next to him in the back of Trip’s car, the bad feeling was totally worth it. Taking a sixty-mile round trip to the animal shelter was worth it. Saving someone’s life was _always_ worth it. Even if the certain someone was a bit-too-skinny, bit-too-shabby, one-eyed golden retriever-like dog.

The dog (Clint still hadn’t decided on a name) licked his hand. He took a photo to go with the other fifty-eight photographs of the dog Clint had taken since adopting him twenty minutes ago.

He smiled at the picture on his phone, deciding to send it to Nat. “How could Phil not love you?” He asked the dog in worrying baby talk.

“Phil doesn’t like dogs, Barton.” Trip laughed. “I know you got me to drive you thirty miles and to sign some paperwork for you just because the mutt had a sob story and a cute photo online, but Phil’s not gonna give in like that.”

Clint scratched his nails through the blonde fur and the dog made a happy chirp, nuzzling further into his lap. “Maybe I can convince Phil he would be a good guard dog.”

The dog turned onto his back, demanding belly rubs and licking Clint’s arms.

Trip nodded. “That’s wishful thinking, man.”

“Yeah, well,” Clint looked down at the dog whose head lay in his lap. Big brown eyes peered up at him. “I guess I’ll just have to talk to Phil man-to-man.”

“You’re gonna cry and beg him to let you keep the dog, aren’t you?”

Clint nodded. “It worked for Nat when she asked to keep me.” He looked down at his phone when it buzzed. “Damnit.”

“What?”

“I owe Tash ten dollars. Steve’s been doing the disappearing broom trick with Maria.” Clint huffed. “I honestly thought Steve was too ‘Boy Scout’ not to wait until marriage.”

Trip looked back at him in the mirror. “Wait, how do you know they’ve been doing it?”

“Tasha’s over at Steve’s now, apparently.” Clint shrugged.

Trip smirked. “Guess we’re taking a detour. I’ve been working with Hill and Rogers almost everyday for three years and they never even told me.”

“Why would they?” The dog was poking Clint in the ribs with a big paw until he began rubbing his belly again. “It’s their business who they’re doing ‘their business’ with.”

Trip laughed. “The first time you slept with Tasha you called me like an hour later to tell me.”

Clint blushed. “It was not an hour later.” He mumbled. “It was like the next day.”

“Whatever, bro.”

…

Melinda awoke to the uncomfortable feeling of someone watching her. She cautiously opened her eyes to find another pair of eyes staring back at her.

“Phil said I could come and see if you were awake.” Skye said, inches from her face. “You weren’t awake yet.”

Mel sat up slowly, blinking past the dull headache and ignoring the undercurrent of nausea that had returned from that morning. The symptoms were getting more and more difficult to ignore and pass off as ‘stress-related’. She turned her attentions back to Skye. She was her priority at the moment.

“And so you thought you would just watch me sleep?”

“Yes.” Skye said.

“Okay, then.”

Skye stood by the side of Mel and Phil’s bed, watching as Melinda composed herself a little more, running a hand through her hair and tying it back. Skye’s painting shirt was gone, but a smear of forest green paint across one of her cheeks was evidence of her time with Phil.

“You took a real long nap, you know.” Skye said, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed.

“I did?” Mel glanced at the clock. It had been over three hours since she’d laid down. It felt like she’d only slept for five minutes.

“Yeah.” Skye looked down at her hands. “I missed you.”

Melinda loved her little girl. She shuffled along in the bed and held open the covers. “Come here.” She said, and Skye climbed into the bed, snuggling in beside her.

Skye’s head went to Melinda’s shoulder and her thumb went into her mouth.

Mel gently extracted her thumb and pulled Skye’s hand down. “No thumb during the day, sweetheart.”

Skye didn’t protest. Ideally, Skye wouldn’t feel the need to self-soothe with her thumb at eight-years-old, but Melinda had no intentions of making her go cold turkey. The little girl had been through enough. The least they could do was let her suck her thumb at night for a little longer.

“Melinda?” Skye asked, craning her neck to look up at her.

“What’s up?”

She smiled. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you. In case you forgot.”

Mel could have cried. Instead, she tightened her arms around her baby girl and held her as close as she could. “I’ll never forget you love me, Skye.” She said. “But I’ll never get tired of hearing you tell me.”

“Good.” Skye said. “’Cause I love you.”

“Hey, Skye?”

“Yeah?”

Mel rubbed their noses together. “I love you.”

Skye grinned and hugged her tightly. “We painted the fence.” She said, wrapping one arm around Melinda’s middle. “And Phil says I can help him paint the fence in the front yard next weekend.”

“So you had fun?” Mel asked, stroking Skye’s dark hair. She pinched her cheek where the green smear remained. “It looks like you had fun.”

“I liked it. And I didn’t say anything about Bobbi being married.” She looked up at Mel. “He knows something’s going on though.”

“It’s okay, baby.” She kissed Skye. “Don’t you worry about that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So,” Mel said, “I take it the rest of the kids are still away?”

Skye nodded. “Yeah.”

Really, Melinda would have been happy to stay in bed all day. Lying down and dozing seemed to both abate her symptoms and distract her from dwelling on the possibility she had been desperately attempting to ignore. Having Skye in her arms gave Melinda a distraction, too. Skye seemed content to remain in bed, too, but she wanted the little girl to get an early night for school the next day, and letting her nap in the late afternoon wouldn’t be helping.

“Why don’t we go downstairs?” Mel said, tickling Skye’s ribs.

The little girl squirmed and pressed her face into Mel’s chest. “But I’m comfy.”

“Me, too, little one, but it’s not bedtime yet.” At that, Skye pouted up at her. “Come on, baby.” Mel extracted herself from Skye’s grip and moved to the edge of the bed. Her lower back protested enough that she had either made a face or made a noise, because in half a second Skye was by her side.

“Are you okay?” Skye asked. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine.” Mel smiled, standing up. “My back is just a little sore.” _And I have a terrible headache. And I constantly feel sick. And fuckfuckfuck._ “I’m fine, Skye.”

Skye sat in the middle of the bed, watching as Melinda moved around the room, pulling on a hoodie and her shoes.

“Are you sure, Mel?” Skye sounded worried.

Melinda ignored her headache, nausea, backache and sheer panic, to kneel in front of Skye. She rubbed a thumb over her green cheek. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m okay.”

“If you’re sure you’re okay…”

“I am.” Mel kissed Skye’s head. “I just need to go to the store for something.”

“Ooh.” Skye jumped off the bed. “Can I come?”

“No.” Mel said, grabbing her wallet and heading out of the door. She was psyching herself up enough to go to the store as it was, she really didn’t need to worry about Skye while she was there.

“Please can I come?” Skye asked again as they walked down the stairs. “I’ll be extra good. I won’t even talk.”

Mel stopped at the bottom. “You can talk, Skye. Talking isn’t bad.”

Skye nodded. “Please, can I come?”

“No, I’m sorry. You can stay home with Phil, okay?”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“ _Please_.”

Mel rolled her eyes. Skye was pouting and maybe it was the hormones or maybe it was just the fact that Melinda had the cutest little girl on the planet, but she found herself nodding and Skye beaming and five minutes and one very vague conversation with Phil about needing something at the store later, Mel and Skye were on their way.

“We’re walking?” Skye asked, as they passed the garage and walked down the driveway.

Mel held her hand out and Skye took it. “It’s not far.”

“I like walking.” Skye said, looking into the various yards they passed.

“Oh yeah?” And Mel was glad she’s let Skye badger her into coming along on this little outing. Her constant chatter was doing a fine job of keeping Mel’s anxieties at bay.

“Yeah.” Skye nodded. “I used to walk to school every day when I lived at St. Agnes’. Some kids didn’t like it because it was a long walk and it wasn’t very nice when it was raining, but I liked it.”

“Why’s that?”

Skye shrugged, craning her neck to see a swing set in someone’s backyard. “The longer I was walking for, the longer I was away from the orphanage.”

Melinda tugged on Skye’s hand and the little girl looked up at her. “You’re never going back there, Skye.”

The little girl peered up at her.

“I promise, baby. You’re staying with me forever. Me and Phil.”

Skye stopped walking abruptly and stepped in front of Mel. The little girl flung her arms around her waist and pressed her face into her stomach. Melinda’s arms went around her baby.

“I believe you.” Skye’s words were muffled by Mel’s hoodie, but were clear as day. “I’m staying forever.”

In the middle of the street, Melinda dropped to her knees and gathered her daughter up in her arms. “You’re staying forever.”

…

When Steve answered his door, he glanced from Trip, to Clint, to the dog, and sighed heavily.

“I’m having such a weird day.”

Clint grinned. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hey.” Steve smiled, stepping back to allow them in.

Trip clapped him on the shoulder. “So, Hill, huh?”

Steve went pink. “Yeah.”

“Good on ya’ dude. Oh, and by the way, Clint got a dog.”

“Yeah.” Clint agreed. “I got a dog.”

“I noticed.” Steve bent down to pet the dog. “Does it have a name?” He asked as they moved into the living room.

“Not yet.” Clint said. “I’m trying a few things out in my head but so far nothing really stands out.” He looked down at the dog. “I thought maybe ‘Dave’, but he’s just not a ‘Dave’. Y’know?”

Steve stared at him.

“Clint,” Nat squealed, “bring our puppy over here!”

“ _That’s_ where Clint went?” Bobbi asked. She was looking at Natasha. “He went to get a dog?”

“Kind of.” Nat said with a guilty shrug.

“Kind of?” Bobbi repeated, looking over at Clint.

“Okay, it’s 100% what happened.” Nat admitted. “But you don’t get to be on your high horse about this. I might not have told you Clint and I were getting a dog, but _you_ didn’t tell _me_ that you got married. That’s way worse.”

“You got married, Bobbi?” Clint asked.

She nodded. “Kind of.”

“Aw, congratulations.” Clint grinned and rushed over, dog leash in hand, and hugged her. “I’m officially Hunter’s brother, now.”

Bobbi frowned. “That’s definitely not how that works.”

Clint ignored her, sitting down on the couch next to Natasha. She reached out to pet their dog. The dog sniffed her cautiously before deciding she was not a threat and bouncing up to lick her face.

“”You’re such a good puppy, aren’t you?” Nat smiled.

Clint looked over at Bobbi. “I’m glad you got married. I always wanted a brother.”

“You _do_ have a brother.” Trip said.

“A _good_ brother.” Clint argued.

“Wait, where did the dog come from?” Maria asked.

Trip turned to Bobbi. “Girl, you got hitched? That kid Hunter better treat you right.”

“He will, Trip.” Bobbi smiled.

“Seriously,” Maria said, “where the hell did Clint get a dog?”

“Here,” Clint said to Nat, fishing some cash out of his pocket, “your ten dollars.”

Nat removed herself from the dog’s slobbery kisses. “Thank you, sir.” She stuffed the money in her own pocket. “I told you they were having sex.”

“I know.” Clint smiled.

“On this couch, too.” Nat smirked.

Clint looked down at where he was sitting. “Ew.”

“Don’t worry. I made Steve Clorox it. It’s free from…” She trailed off.

“ _Fluids_.” Clint finished. “Gross.”

At the lack of attention on him, the dog ‘woofed’ and violently wagged his tail. Clint wrapped an arm around Nat, petting the dog with the other hand. He kissed her cheek. “We have a dog, Nat.”

“We have a dog.” She agreed. “Like real grown ups.” Nat shook her head. “Dad’s gonna kill us.”

“Oh yeah. We’re even more dead than Bobbi is. Does Phil know she got married?” Clint asked.

“Mom knows.” Bobbi answered. “And Skye. And now you guys. So I’m hoping Mom will tell him for me and she’ll make sure he doesn’t flip out.”

Clint nudged Nat. “How did Mel react when she found out?”

“She shouted and then we ran away.” Bobbi said.

Trip smiled. “Mama Mel might have murdered your husband by now. You could be a widow, Barbara.”

“The dog.” Maria said again. “It came from where?”

…

Phil sat down on the couch, cup of coffee in hand, and looked around the empty room.

“Where the hell is everyone?”

The house failed to answer, and Phil took the rare and slightly disconcerting silence as an invitation to watch reruns of _Project Runway_ without anyone judging him.

…

The store Melinda had walked them to was pretty big. Not as big as the stores Skye had been to, to get all of her new clothes, but still big enough that she was a little worried about getting lost in the aisles of cosmetics and toiletries. She held Mel’s hand tighter and stuck close.

“What are we buying?” Skye asked, peering over at an elderly woman inspecting some tubes of bright lipstick.

“You can get two candies.” Mel said, leading Skye further towards the back of the drugstore.

Skye looked up at her. “We came all the way here just to buy me candy?”

Mel grimaced. “Not exactly.” She mumbled. “I need a few things, too.”

“What do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh.” Skye looked up at the shelves they were passing, filled with brightly coloured boxes of medicines and vitamins. “Are you sick?”

Melinda stopped when the reached the shelves stretching across the back wall. She turned to Skye. “No, sweetheart. I’m not sick.”

Skye was getting worried. She tugged on Melinda’s hand. “Then why are you buying medicine?”

“I’m not buying _medicine_.” Mel assured her. “Hey, why don’t you go and get your candy, huh?”

As much as she wanted her candy, Skye didn’t want to leave Melinda. The candy aisle looked to be at least two aisles over, and Skye didn’t want to go alone. Mel must have sensed this because she pulled Skye into a hug and kissed her head.

“It’s okay. I’ll get my stuff and then we’ll go get your candy, okay?”

“’Kay.” Skye grinned.

“So,” Melinda said, turning her attention back to the shelves, “what candy are you going to get?”

Skye thought about it, looking over to where she could see some gummy bears peeking at her from the end of an aisle. “Maybe gummy bears.” She said. “Ooh, or some of that chocolate that has peanut butter in.”

“Sounds good.”

“Or that gum with the juice inside. I had that at school. Grant gave me one because I won in our race.”

Melinda tugged on Skye’s hand, pulling her from her reverie. “Let’s go see what they have.” She began leading Skye to the candy.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Skye that Melinda was carrying three small boxes, clutching them to her chest. She tried to see what they were, but Mel’s hand covered most of the writing and there were no pictures on them. Skye was about to ask her what the boxes were, concerned Melinda really _was_ unwell and it was medicine, but then they reached the candy and choosing gummy bears or Sour Patch Kids became the eight-year-Old’s priority.

…

Trip slouched by the door to Steve’s living room. The apartment was cramped even for Steve and his muscles alone, so with six of them inside plus Clint and Nat’s new dog, the apartment was bursting at the seams.

Steve sat next to Maria on the coffee table, absently petting the dog and looking between the people on his couch. “I don’t mean to be a nag, but when do you guys plan on going home?”

“We can’t go home.” Bobbi said. She jerked her thumb over to her sister and Clint. “They bought a dog and I got married, or did you forget? If we go home, we might never see the light of day again.”

“Actually, we _adopted_ a dog.” Clint corrected.

Trip coughed. “Excuse me. Who adopted the dog?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Fine, Trip adopted the dog on my behalf.”

At Maria’s confused expression, Trip elaborated. “Clint’s only twenty. Not old enough for dog adoption.”

The woman eyed the animal lying by her feet. “Why did you get a dog anyway? I mean, both of you are going back to DC next week. What are you going to with it then?”

Nat and Clint looked at each other. It was Nat who replied in a small voice. “We were hoping Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind watching him while we were away.”

Maria sighed. “Don’t you think your parents have enough on their plates? With work, Skye, and now Bobbi running off and getting hitched.”

“Hey.” Bobbi butted in. “I married the man I love. That’s way better than picking up some random dog when you can’t even care for it, because it looked cute.”

“They were going to kill him.” Nat said, and Clint covered the dog’s ears with his hands.

Trip rolled his eyes.

“They were gonna euthanize him if no one adopted him.” Clint argued. “We _had_ to adopt him.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve stood up, putting up both hands. The room fell silent. “Listen. Phil is going to be mad at you, no matter what.” He pointed to Clint and Nat. “You guys got a dog. He’s going to be pissed.” Steve turned to Bobbi. “You got married. Phil’s going to…” He trailed off.

“He’s gonna flip his shit.” Maria supplied.

Steve put a hand on her shoulder. “Not how I would have put it but yes. Point is, you all need to leave my house because you can’t hide here forever.”

“We can try.” Bobbi muttered.

“Please leave.” Steve said.

Trip straightened up. “Come on, guys. I’ll drive you all home to face the music.”

Nat frowned. “You just want to watch, don’t you?”

“Honestly, girl,” Trip grinned, “I wanna kick back with some popcorn to see how this all goes.”

…

Melinda rushed Skye back to the house, left her with Phil (who was watching _Project Runway,_ yes she did notice even though he tried to turn off the TV) in the living room, and jogged upstairs with her carrier bag of things. Along with the stuff Melinda had _actually_ gone to the drugstore for, she had purchased a pack of gum, some rubber yellow cleaning gloves, and perhaps pointlessly, a couple of packs of condoms.

She had bought the extra items with the intention that the more she purchased, the less likely the teenager behind the counter would take notice of the three different brands of tests she bought. However, looking at the items splayed on the bathroom counter in front of her, Mel realised it would have been less weird to have simply purchased the original items she went into the store to get.

All three of the tests, despite being different brands, contained more paperwork and directions than Melinda felt was entirely necessary for an item she was going to pee on. In the end, Mel stuffed the directions back into the boxes and went with following the instructions on the outside of the boxes.

Five minutes later she was left sitting on the edge of the bathtub, heart in her mouth, and head in her hands.

“Are you _sure_ you aren’t sick?”

Mel’s head whipped up to see Skye hovering by the ensuite door. The little girl was rubbing her thumb over her lips anxiously. She stepped further into the bathroom and put her bag on candy on the counter. Skye put her hands on Mel’s cheeks. Melinda took a steadying breath.

“I can guarantee you, Skye,” Mel said, standing up, “I’m not _sick_.”

Skye frowned. “You look sick.”

“Thanks.” Mel deadpanned.

“You’re welcome.” The little girl said sincerely. “So,” Skye dug her toe into the bedroom carpet as Mel shuffled them out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her, “if you’re not sick, then what’s wrong?”

Melinda sat down on the bed. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

Skye shrugged. “Dunno.”

“I’m okay, Skye.” Mel said. She patted the bed beside her and Skye scrambled up onto it.

“You’re not lying, right?”

“I’m telling the truth.” Mel promised. “I’m not sick. I’m okay.”

Skye studied her face for a moment, and for one horrifying second, Melinda honestly thought that Skye could see right through her, but then the little girl smiled and nodded.

“Good.”

Melinda let out a breath. “Good.”

_“You did_ what _?!”_ Phil’s voice ripped through the house sounding plain as day in the bedroom.

Skye looked up at Mel. “Uh-oh.”

“You think he knows about Bobbi?” Mel asked her daughter.

_“Lance Hunter, you son of a bitch, get back here!”_

“Yes.” Skye smirked. “I think he might know.”

Mel stood up, composing herself. She pushed everything else to the back of her mind. It could be dealt with later. Right now she had her husband to control.

“Come on, Skye.” Mel said, leading her youngest out of the room. “Maybe if you look cute enough, Phil might feel too guilty to attack Hunter.”

Skye batted her lashes at Mel.

“It is dangerous how adorable you are.”

…

For hours Lance Hunter had been wandering the streets simply to avoid his in-law’s house. Frankly, he was terrified of Bobbi’s parents, and if her father had somehow found out about their marriage since he had ran away from her mother, Lance wanted to remain away from the unavoidable hostility for as long as possible.

That being said, he’d received a text from Natasha informing him that the sisters were on their way home to ‘face the music’ and she had wanted to know what the atmosphere at home was like. Not that Lance could have told Natasha as he’d ran away, and instead found himself admitting via text to his sister-in-law (and didn’t that feel weird to call her) of his own cowardice.

In reply, Nat had told Lance to meet them back at the house. Safety in numbers and all that.

When Hunter arrived at the house, the front door was already open, and the sound of Phil Coulson’s ‘You did a bad thing and I’m very mad about it’ voice.

Lance took a deep breath, psyched himself up, and entered the house.

…

Bobbi was infinitely pleased that Clint and Natasha had entered the house first, dog in tow, to receive the wrath of their father. She stuck back, close to Trip, as her Dad’s eyes landed on the panting dog, and he slowly moved from his place of the couch, to stand in front of Clint and Natasha.

“Before you say no-,” Clint tried, but Phil put a finger up to silence him.

“Tell me that you did not get a dog.” He said far too calmly.

Clint slipped his hand into Nat’s. “I did not get a dog.”

Phil narrowed his eyes. “Are you lying to me, Clinton?”

Trip shifted beside Bobbi. You _knew_ you were in trouble when Dad used your full name.

“Clinton Barton,” Phil said, “are you lying to me?”

“Yes.” Clint said quietly.

Apparently that admission was enough to break the dam, and Phil threw his arms up into the air. “For God’s sake, Clint.” His voice was getting louder and dog shrank back to huddle behind Natasha’s legs. “How many times have I told you, you _cannot_ have a dog in my house?”

“But Phil-,”

“But nothing.” Phil seethed. “No. No dog.”

Natasha took a step forward. “But Daddy-,”

Her father shook his head. “Don’t you _dare_ ‘Daddy’ me, Natasha. Both of you are in so much trouble. I cannot believe, you two.”

“He needed someone to save him, Dad.” Nat tried again. “We had to.”

Phil ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not even that you brought a dog here, you know that right?” He looked between the two of them. “It’s that you directly _disobeyed_ me. Disrespected the rules your mother and I have put down in this house.”

Nat’s fists clenched. “Well maybe if they were not such _stupid_ rules, we not-,” She stumbled over accented words and Clint squeezed her hand, “We _would_ not have to break them.”

Phil smacked a hand on his head. “I cannot believe you would do this!”

Lance Hunter pushed past Bobbi and Trip, ignoring Nat, Clint and the dog, to stand in front of Phil. He looked more terrified than anything else, and Bobbi opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when he cut her off.

“Don’t be mad at Bobbi. Please. It was my fault. Honestly I talked her into getting married. I mean, it didn’t take much but-,”

“You did _what_?!” Phil shouted, and all of the colour drained from Lance and Bobbi’s faces.

“Oh no.” Lance whipped around to look at Bobbi. “He wasn’t mad about that, was he?”

“Nope.” Bobbi said. She glanced at her father’s puce face. “But now he is.”

Lance skidded past her and out of the front door. He returned a moment later to press a kiss to her lips.

“I love you more than life itself.” He said. “Remember that, if I don’t come back.” He kissed her once more, and with that, Hunter sprinted out of the front door, down the driveway and disappeared into the street.

“Lance Hunter, you son of a bitch, get back here!” Phil followed him.

“Run, Hunter, run!” Trip yelled in an exaggerated Southern accent.

Bobbi gave him a ‘look’. “Not the time.”

He smirked. “Your Dad really is gonna kill him.”

“I think we might be too late, Mel.” Skye’s voice had everyone turning to see her and Melinda standing on the stairs.

Mel rubbed her eyes. “I think you’re right.”

“Oh my gosh.” Skye squealed. “A dog!”

“Okay.” Mel grabbed Skye’s shoulder before she could propel herself down the stairs at the dog. “Clint, tell me you didn’t get a dog.”

Clint opened his mouth, but Trip stepped in. “We’ve been through this already. I’ll save you some time. Yeah, he and Tash got a dog. Phil’s mad about it, but not as mad as he is at Hunter for marrying Bobbi.”

Mel sighed. “Skye, go back upstairs.”

“Why?” She whined. “I wanna see the doggy.”

“Please, just go upstairs. There’s a lot going on, everyone looks guilty, and I suspect some of our discussion will have some colourful language I’d rather you didn’t hear.”

Skye pouted and folded her arms, but didn’t argue. She gave the dog one last look and trotted back up the stairs.

Melinda turned to the rest of the kids. “You’re all in so much trouble. Even the dog.”

…

Skye was pretty bummed she’d been exiled to the upstairs. What was going on downstairs seemed a lot more interesting and she _really_ wanted to go and play with Clint’s dog, but Mel had seemed serious when she’d told her to stay upstairs, so Skye obeyed.

For a few minutes, Skye pottered around in her bedroom, playing with the few toys she had up there, but then something sweet and chewy stuck in one of her teeth reminded Skye of the half-packet of candy she still had left to eat.

“Where did I leave-,” She looked around the room for the packet before realising where they were. “Oh.”

Going into Mel and Phil’s room without permission seemed wrong. Going into their bathroom without permission seemed _really_ wrong, but she could picture the candy on the counter on the other side of the door so clearly, and it wasn’t like she could ask either of them for permission- Mel told her to stay upstairs and Phil was, well, probably chasing Hunter around the neighbourhood.

Moral dilemma reaching its climax, Skye took the initiative and pushed open the ensuite door, rushed inside, and grabbed her candy. Her intention was to grab the packet and go, but in the process Skye knocked some of Melinda’s things off the counter.

“Whoopsie.” She mumbled bending down the pick up the dropped items.

At first Skye just thought the little plastic objects were some kind of weird toothbrushes with lids, but then a good look at all three had realisation drenching Skye.

She was eight, she wasn’t stupid. And if the general appearance of the items weren’t clues enough as to what their purpose was, the little screen in the centre of one of them confirmed Skye’s suspicions.

_Pregnant_

“Well,” Skye breathed, “at least she’s not sick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some trivia: That bit about the "weird toothbrushes with lids" came straight from the mouth of a seven year old little girl I've been working with who found her sister's pregnancy tests in the bin. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! A lot was going on. Haha.


	15. Skye's Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but that's it, I'm finished uni forever! YAY! Thanks for all the kind congrats I've been getting, some of you lovely people have even made me cry with your very kind words. I love you guys. xxx
> 
> Also,
> 
> SCIENCE, BIACH!

Skye took her candy, put the tests back onto the counter, and left Mel and Phil’s bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her. She left their bedroom, crossed the hall and shut herself back into her own room. Bobbi’s sign hung proudly on the front of the door, but Skye barely even spared it a second look.

She put her thumb into her mouth even though it wasn’t bedtime. Skye’s tummy felt weird. A little tight, a little bubbly. She didn’t want her candy anymore. She put the half packet of candy on her desk, and climbed into bed under the covers even though she was fully clothed. She even had her shoes on.

At some point in the day, someone had moved Mr. Snow from Clint and Nat’s room, back into Skye’s room. Presumably the same person to have put new sheets on the bed, too. Skye thought it might have been Phil, but she wasn’t really sure.

Mr. Snow’s white fur was soft against Skye’s cheek as she cuddled him close. He didn’t even mind that he was being squished against the wall and Skye when she turned over to face away from the door. The polar bear’s Captain America mask was slipping off his head, so Skye pulled it off the whole way and tucked it under her pillow, fluffing up his facial fur where the mask had pressed it flat.

“Clint got a dog.” Skye told the bear, talking around her thumb.

He didn’t reply, but Skye knew he was listening. Mr. Snow always listened to her.

“I wanted to go see it, but Mel said I had to stay upstairs.” The bear’s fur tickled Skye’s nose. “I think Mel’s mad at everyone.” She said quietly, whispering in his ear. “Not me. I don’t think so.” Skye’s tummy hurt again. She took a few second to suck her thumb properly, rubbing the top of her nose with her fingers. “Phil’s mad, too. At Hunter. Everyone’s mad at everyone.”

Skye closed her eyes and imagined Hunter being chased around the streets by Phil. She felt a little scared, but then her mind made up a story about Hunter jumping over fences and Phil chasing him with a giant net, and she giggled.

“Where would he even get a net that big?” She asked Mr. Snow, opening her eyes. “And then Hunter would have to hide from Phil.” She smiled. “Maybe in the trees. And paint his face like camouflage.”

Someone was shouting downstairs.

Skye froze. She didn’t like shouting. Especially not when the words were too far away to here, then her head liked to make up horrible things that the people could be saying about her.

_The kid needs a good slap._

_She’s more trouble than she’s worth._

_Who thought getting a kid like her was a good idea? Too messed up to function. I wanted a normal kid._

_Why the hell did we end up with a broken one? This is why you get good kids, not rejects like that idiot._

Sometimes Skye didn’t have to make things up. Sometimes Skye just had to remember.

She pressed her face into Mr. Snow’s fur, ignoring the tickling of her nose.

“It’s gonna be okay.” She told the bear. Tears leaked into his fur. “Right?”

Another shout. This time a little more distinctive, enough so that Skye could recognise the voice as Natasha’s.

And another shout. This time Clint.

Clint again.

A pause. Skye held her breath and strained her ears.

_“I’m not a child anymore!”_ Bobbi. So loud that Skye could pick out every word.

She’d never heard Bobbi yell like that before. It was hard to imagine the sight of her yelling.

The dog started to bark and a few loud bangs made the walls feel like they were shaking. Skye pulled her covers over here head, even though it was too hot. She tucked Mr. Snow under her chin.

“Don’t be scared.” She whispered to him, rubbing his ear under her nose. “You’ll stay with me no matter what. I Mel says I get to stay here no matter what.” Skye kissed his furry head. “She promised.”

Skye hoped Mel was telling the truth.

…

Melinda waited until she heard the sound of Skye’s bedroom door closing before turning to the rest of her kids. Each of them were watching her with varying degrees of fear. Well, except Trip. He was smirking at the utter terror on Clint’s face.

She cleared her throat and Trip looked over to her. The smirk remained.

“You better clear that little smile off of your face or so help me, Antoine Triplett I will kick all that swag of yours into next week.” Mel glared at him and his face fell.

“Sorry.” Trip mumbled, moving to sit on the couch.

May crossed her arms. “The rest of you, get on that couch.”

Clint, Natasha, and Bobbi remained still, watching her.

“Now.” Mel almost growled.

The three kids jumped and shuffled over to squeeze on the couch with Trip. Really, it was too small to fit all four of them on at once, at least comfortably, but Melinda was having an extremely stressful day and right now she needed them all in the same place.

The dog attempted to hop onto Clint’s lap, only his front paws landing successfully, leaving Clint to half lift, half drag the rest of the dog up. If she wasn’t so livid with all of the people on her couch right now, Melinda might have described the whole scene as ‘cute’. As it was…

“Dog off the couch.” Mel deadpanned.

Clint didn’t hesitate to push the large animal onto the ground. The one-eyed dog whined by Nat’s feet, but quietened quickly when she began petting its head with her foot.

Melinda took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her lower back was aching, her head was killing her, and quite frankly, she felt as though she was running on fumes.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Bobbi asked. She sounded unsure. Mel opened her eyes to see Bobbi was rubbing the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her lips.

There was no way her little girl could be married. No way, Mel thought. Not the little girl who was sat before her, now nibbling on the sleeve. She looked closer to twelve than twenty-five.

The words left her mouth without her permission. “God. I swear you were twelve just yesterday.” Mel said, sighing as she sat herself down on the coffee table. Her back protested but she schooled her features enough for the kids not to notice. “Bobbi,” Melinda shook her head, “when did you grow up?”

Bobbi pulled the sleeve away from her face. The edge of it was wet. “It just happened.”

Mel smiled. “You grew up overnight?”

“Something like that.” The sleeve went back to her mouth. “Time flies and all that.”

“Don’t chew your sleeve, honey.” Mel said and Bobbi pulled her hand away from her mouth, blushing.

“I wasn’t.” Bobbi mumbled, eyes going to her lap, and her other hand covering the wet sleeve.

Natasha nudged her with her elbow, best she could in the small space. “It’s okay.” She said.

“I wasn’t chewing it.” Bobbi insisted, and Nat looked to Melinda.

“Okay.” Mel said.

For years Mel had found tiny holes in the sleeves of Bobbi’s clothes. It was something she had thought her eldest daughter had grown out of some years ago. It had been a stress-induced tick, chewing on her sleeves. As far as Melinda knew, Bobbi hadn’t done it for years, although, to be fair to Bobbi, it had been a very long day.

Melinda cast her eyes down to the dog, now laying over Nat and Clint’s feet. It was a scruffy thing. Looked as though it needed a bath and a good groom. There was drool on Nat’s sock, not that she seemed to mind in the slightest.

“Bobbi,” Mel said, looking back up her daughter, “you and I going to have a long talk later, okay?”

“Okay.” Bobbi said. The hand began twitching its way up again, but Nat laced her fingers with her sister’s and brought their joined hands down to her lap. Bobbi smiled at her.

“Right now, I need to ask some questions about this dog.” Melinda turned her attention to Clint and Nat. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Natasha and Clint looked at each other, having one of their silent conversations that Melinda would never even be able to hope to decipher.

“Explain now, please.” Mel said.

It was Clint who spoke.

“We saw him on a website.”

“Why were you looking at animals to adopt?” Mel asked. “Surely you knew you wouldn’t be able to care for it?”

Clint glanced at Nat, then back to Mel. “We weren’t really looking to _actually_ adopt. Sometimes, when we’re in DC, Tasha and I like to stay in and just,” he shrugged and looked to Nat, “chill, I guess.” His thumb rubbed over the back of Natasha’s hand. “We like to be on our own sometimes.”

“Yes.” Nat said. “And we like to…” She trailed off, a little smile on her face. “Pretend.”

“Ew.” Trip said, grimacing. “Role play.”

Bobbi thumped him in the shoulder.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Not like _that_.”

Natasha smirked.

As angry as Melinda was, that little smile on her daughter’s face had her own lips twitching.

“We like to pretend,” Natasha said, looking down at the dog, “pretend we’re all grown up.”

“We talk about what we’re gonna do.” Clint said. “Y’know, in the future and stuff. We look online at the house we’re gonna live in, and we look at the furniture we’re gonna buy, and we look at,” he paused and Melinda watched him squeeze Nat’s hand, “we look at what we’re gonna wear on our wedding day.”

All eyes in the room went to Clint. Melinda felt her mouth falling open. _Not them, too._ She thought. One child married in secret was quite enough. Mel wasn’t sure she could cope with another who was secretly engaged. Clint squared his shoulders and looked her in the eye, all fear that had been there a few minutes before, gone. Total confidence.

“Because,” Clint said, “one day I _will_ marry Natasha. I will. And we’re not engaged or anything like that,” he said, and Mel let out a breath of relief, “but we will be one day.” He turned to Natasha and smiled at her. She was watching him with watery eyes. “We’re gonna be together forever.”

Melinda didn’t doubt him for a second.

The room was quiet for a moment. Mel watched Clint sign something to Nat, something Mel’s limited knowledge of signing didn’t allow her to translate. Natasha nodded at him and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Bobbi and Trip watched, smiling.

Clint gave Natasha a smile, and turned back to Melinda. “We were looking at what pets we might have in the future.”

“Lulu, obviously.” Nat said.

Mel grimaced. That freaking spider.

Nat continued. “But we wanted a dog, too. And maybe a cat. And maybe like, a ferret or something. Or a snake.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. Of course Nat would want a snake.

Clint nodded. “But dog first. And we were just looking on one of those adoption sites, and we saw his picture.” He looked down at the dog. “He was in a shelter not far from here.”

Melinda sighed. “And what, you both thought ‘oh what a cute dog, we’ll go get him’?”

“It wasn’t a rash decision.” Nat argued. “We saw him months ago, but then every time we went on the site, he was still there. No one wanted him.”

“And then one day,” Clint took over, “it said he was going…if no one wanted him…”

Trip stepped in. “They were gonna put the dog down if no one adopted him within the week.”

“And you know that, how?” Mel asked.

Trip shrugged. “You need to be at least twenty one to adopt a dog, so I went with Clint to get him. I drove, Clint paid, I signed all the paperwork.”

“You enabled this, Antoine.”

Trip shrugged. “I’m sorry but I’d do it again.”

Melinda glared at him. “You _know_ how Phil feels about dogs, Trip.”

“They were gonna kill him.” Clint stressed. “We _had_ to. It’s not Trip’s fault.”

Mel wanted so much to be mad at Clint and Nat, so badly wanted to call them out for being selfish and unthinking, but the dog was looking at her with it’s one brown eye and it _was_ really cute and goddamn these stupid hormones and…

“You wanted to save him?” She looked at Nat and Clint. They nodded. “I love you so much.”

Nat smiled. “So we can keep him?”

“No.”

Their faces fell.

“I’m sorry.” Mel said, and she really was. “But guys, we just can’t have a dog right now. You can’t take him back to DC, so I assume you wanted to leave him here?”

Two guilty faces peered back at her.

“That was the wrong assumption to make.” Melinda said.

“But he would have died.” Clint said.

“I know, and that’s awful, but Clint you cannot just assume Phil and I can take in a pet.” She rubbed at her temples. “How many times have we told you, we cannot look after a dog?”

Clint frowned. “So what, you’d just rather he was dead?”

“I didn’t say-,”

“You’re just,” Clint stumbled over his words, “just, you and Phil are just too selfish to take care of a needy animal.”

“Clint.” Trip said in a low voice.

Bobbi pulled her hand, not wrapped in Tasha’s, inside of her sleeve and rubbed the fabric over her lips.

Clint swallowed and looked down at his lap.

Trip looked to Melinda. “He doesn’t mean that. He’s just mad.”

“I know.” Mel said. She didn’t allow her expression to convey any of the hurt she felt at Clint’s words.

“We cannot take him back.” Natasha said quietly. “Mama, please.”

Melinda looked between the four kids on her couch. Trip was eyeing her warily, every so often shifting his gaze to Clint. Bobbi sat next to him, one hand still wrapped in her sister’s, the other up by her mouth again. Natasha had one hand in Bobbi’s, one hand in Clint’s, biting her lip, head ducked enough that her red hair fell over one eye. Clint’s eyes remained on his lap, the hand that was not holding Nat’s fidgeted with one of his hearing aids.

“Trip.” Melinda said.

“Yes?”

“Go home, please. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“I can stay.” He said.

“Please.” Melinda said. “We’ll talk at work.”

Trip stood up and looked back at the three others on the couch. “I guess I’ll see you guys later.” He paused as he passed Melinda on his way out. “I’m sorry, Mel.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled. Poor Trip had been pulled into something that really wasn’t his fault, his generous nature having gotten him in trouble and not for the first time.

Trip left, and Melinda waited until she heard his car leave the driveway before addressing the remaining three people on her sofa.

“The dog can stay tonight.”

Natasha grinned.

“ _Only_ for tonight.” Melinda clarified and Nat’s face fell. “Then we find somewhere for it to go.”

“But-,” Clint started and Melinda cut him off.

“When your father and I get home from work tomorrow afternoon, I want that dog gone. Do you understand?”

“No.” Nat extracted herself from her sister and boyfriend and stood up. “He’s our dog. We’re not getting rid of him.”

Melinda stood. “Natasha-,”

“No. No!” Nat argued.

Clint stood too, putting a hand on Nat’s shoulder.

“Listen to me, Natasha, Clint.” Mel looked between them, doing her best to ignore the dog shuffling around their feet. “It was unfair to assume your father and I would take care of this dog.”

“Unfair?” Clint huffed. “They were going to _kill him._ ”

“And that’s terrible, but it’s not fair to blame me. For years we have said no to you getting a dog because we are just not in a position to care for one. It’s not fair to me, to your father, to the _dog_.” She looked down at the animal. “We’ll find him a good home.”

“Here would be a good home.” Natasha argued, voice getting louder. “He is our dog!”

“This discussion is over.” Melinda said. “The dog goes tomorrow. End.”

“We are adults.” Nat shouted. “You cannot tell us what to do.”

“Oh, you’re adults?” Mel laughed humourlessly. “Then act like adults, be responsible.”

“We _are_.” Clint insisted.

“Stop shouting. Both of you.”

Nat pushed her hair away from her face. “You ask me to stop shouting? I will never stop shouting when you not let us keep our dog.” Her accent was peaking.

“I have far more to be concerned about right now than a dog.” Mel said. She thought back to the three pregnancy tests sitting on her counter in the ensuite and clamped down on the urge to vomit. “Dog is going to be gone by tomorrow. Yes?”

Clint glared at her. “You’re just saying that so you don’t have to take care of him. It’s just an excuse.” He shouted. “You have a pretty good life if you ask me, nothing to be concerned about.”

Melinda ran her hand through her hair. “Adults?” She looked from Nat and Clint to Bobbi, now curled up on the couch, chewing on her sleeve. How could that little thing be _married_? “All three of you are just kids. You don’t have a clue what I’m going through right now. Not a clue.”

The kids fell back at Mel’s statement. All three stayed quiet. Bobbi had a little frown on her face.

“You don’t know what’s going on right now, and that’s not your fault,” Mel said slowly, “but when you keep secrets from your father and I, and when you just demand we accept your actions, it just shows me that you’re all still just kids.” Melinda looked over to Bobbi. Her sleeve was soaked.

Melinda sighed. “You got married, Bobbi, without even talking to me. What were you thinking?” Mel asked.

Bobbi looked up at her. Frown even deeper.

“Don’t chew your sleeve.”

And apparently that request from Melinda was the sentiment that opened the floodgates.

Bobbi ripped her hand away from her mouth and stood up. “I’m not a child anymore!”

The dog started to bark, weaving through Natasha and Clint’s legs. Clint grabbed his collar and pulled him towards the stairs, Nat following without sparing Melinda another look. They stomped up the stairs with the dog and disappeared down the hall. Bobbi followed, jogging up almost all of the stairs before turning and catching her mother’s eye.

“I’m not a child.” She said.

Melinda sighed. “You’re _my_ child.”

“But I’m not a kid anymore, Mom.” Bobbi breathed. She looked down at her hands. “I think you forget that.”

Mel swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

Melinda wanted to run to her. Pull her daughter to her and just keep her safe and happy. She wanted to do that with all of her kids.

Bobbi looked up, glaring. “Leave me alone, Mom.”

“Bobbi, I-,”

“Urg. Just, just go _away_.” Bobbi turned and climbed the last few stairs, leaving Melinda alone in the living room.

Mel dropped back down to the coffee table and put her head in her hands. The tears leaked out before she could really do anything about them. She wiped them away quickly.

“Hormones.” She muttered to herself. _Yeah, right._

She needed Phil.

…

Somebody walked past her bedroom door. Skye held her breath and pulled down the duvet a little to get a better listen.

_“We’ll figure something out, Nat.”_ Clint’s voice. _“I promise, baby. We’ll work it out.”_

_“Yeah. I’m not letting him go, Clint.”_ Nat said.

The sound of Natasha and Clint’s bedroom door opening and closing had Skye pulling the covers back over her head.

“I don’t think we should go see them.” Skye told Mr. Snow, even though he _really_ wanted to go and see Nat and Clint and make sure they were okay. “They sounded mad.”

More footsteps passed Skye’s door. Whoever that was didn’t speak, but continued down the hall. A door opened. Skye listened. The door closed again and the footsteps began getting closer to Skye’s bedroom.

Skye was still under the covers when her door opened. She pretended she was sleeping, closing her eyes tightly and ignoring how hot she felt under the duvet fully clothed. If it was Melinda, Skye didn’t want to speak to her. At least not right now. Her tummy felt tight and her throat felt scratchy. Skye thought she might cry.

Whoever it was sat on her bed, making it dip at Skye’s back. The person put a hand on her shoulder, on top of the covers, and squeezed.

“Skye?”

Skye pulled the covers from over her head and turned over. “Bobbi?”

Bobbi smiled at her sadly. Her eyes were red.

Skye frowned. “Are you upset?” She asked.

“How could you tell?” Bobbi asked, slouching on the bed.

Skye shrugged. “You just look sad, I guess.”

“Yeah, well…” Her big sister looked away for a second, then turned back to Skye. “I was going to go sit in my room but, well, I think I need a hug.” She said quietly.

“I can do that.” Skye lifted the covers up and Bobbi climbed into the small space next to her.

The two sisters cuddled, Skye’s head pillowed on Bobbi’s chest. Skye sat up a little and began moving their positions, shifting further up the bed.

“What are you doing?” Bobbi asked.

Skye lay down again and patted her own chest. “Put your head here.”

“Why?”

“’Cause, I’m meant to be hugging _you._ Not the other way around.”

Bobbi chuckled, but placed her head on Skye’s chest, allowing the little girl’s arms to wrap around her. “Thank you, Skye.” She said, taking one of Skye’s hands and kissing it. “I needed this.”

“S’okay.” Skye stroked the blonde hair back from Bobbi’s face, like Mel did to her. She wanted Bobbi to feel better. Skye pressed a kiss into Bobbi’s hair. “I don’t think Phil will hurt Hunter, well, not too much.”

“Oh yeah?” Bobbi grinned up at her. Her eyes were still red but her smile was genuine.

“Yeah. He likes Hunter, really.” Skye said.

“I know.” Bobbi ran her fingers over Mr. Snow’s fur. “Mom likes him, too. I think they’re just mad I didn’t tell them I was getting married, and then, that I _got_ married.”

Skye nodded. “I think you’re supposed to invite your Mommy and Daddy to your wedding.”

“So you think they’re right to be mad at me?” Bobbi asked.

Skye closed her eyes. She couldn’t really imagine what being a Mom or Dad was like, let alone a Mom or Dad who didn’t get invited to their daughter’s wedding, but Skye knew what if felt like when you thought you were someone’s friend and then they invited everyone _but_ you to their birthday party. That hurt.

“I think maybe you hurt their feelings, Bobbi.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi whispered. “I think I did. Mom’s really mad at me. I said some things that weren’t very nice to her.”

The two sisters lay in bed together quietly. Skye continued to stroke Bobbi’s hair.

“Bobbi?” Skye asked.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you should say you’re sorry to Melinda.”

“Yeah. You’re right, Skye.” Bobbi said, but didn’t move. “I’ll give her some time to cool off, though. She seemed pretty stressed.”

_And I know why,_ thought Skye. “Kay.” She said.

Skye wanted to tell Bobbi what she’d found out when she was in Mel’s bathroom. Even without discussing it with anyone, Skye knew it must be a secret, a big one. Mel hadn’t wanted her to go to the store with her, and now all the secrecy was making sense. The boxes she’d been hiding from Skye, the odd behaviour.

Skye wanted to tell Nat and Clint and Hunter and, really, she just didn’t want it to be a secret anymore. Her tummy felt tight. Her hand stilled in Bobbi’s hair. Skye was worried.

Bobbi looked up at her. “You okay, little sis?”

Skye shook her head.

“What’s up?” Bobbi sat up in Skye’s bed, pulling her into her lap. “What’s the matter?”

Skye wrapped her arms around Bobbi’s neck. “I’ve got a secret. And it’s making me worried.”

“Tell me.” Bobbi rubbed her back. “Maybe I can help.”

Skye shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really my secret.” Skye said. “I just, I just…” she stumbled over her words.

“Take your time, honey.” Bobbi soothed.

Skye swallowed and tried getting the words arranged in her head. “I found out on accident. I don’t think I should tell.”

“But if it’s making you worried, you _have_ to tell someone. You can tell me, Skye. Sisters tell each other everything.”

Skye wiped her eyes. “You didn’t tell Tasha that you got married.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“Because,” Bobbi ticked her side, “I’m an idiot, and you’re not.”

“Oh.” Skye rested her head on Bobbi’s shoulder and picked at the hem of Mr. Snow’s Captain America costume.

“Please, tell me, Skye.” Bobbi said. “Especially if it’s worrying you.”

“But I _can’t_.” Skye stressed. Bobbi just didn’t understand. “I told you, it’s not really my secret.”

Bobbi sighed. “No one…” She paused. “Nobody is, is, hurting you, right?”

Skye looked up at Bobbi. “No.” She assured her. “Not anymore. Not since I came to live here.”

Her big sister’s shoulders fell and she kissed Skye’s head. “Thank God.”

“It’s not a secret like that.”

Skye knew all about secrets like ‘ _that_ ’. She couldn’t count how many times she’d been told to keep quiet in so many words, only to have someone else, usually a social worker or one of the nuns, tell her that if she was hurt or being hurt, she _had_ to tell someone. Those people never seemed to be able to get it into their head that sometimes it was better to keep your mouth shut.

“It’s not a secret like that.” Skye said again. “It won’t be a secret forever.”

“It won’t?” Bobbi rested her chin on the top of her head, and Skye cuddled closer.

“Nope.” Skye frowned when she got a tight feeling in her tummy again. It was the same feeling she got when she went to her new school for the first time. “It can’t be a secret forever.”

Skye knew how babies worked, well, she knew _sort of_ , but what she was sure of was that a lady couldn’t really keep it a secret for long. Somebody would eventually notice that something was different.

“So,” Bobbi said, “does that mean you’ll tell me this secret eventually?”

“If I don’t, somebody will.” Skye muttered.

Bobbi chuckled. “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” Skye said. She didn’t _feel_ okay, but Bobbi had already seemed sad when she first came into the room, and she didn’t want to be any more of a bother. “Hey, Bobbi?” Skye said in a purposeful attempt to change the subject.

“Yeah, honey?”

“We haven’t had dinner yet.”

“You hungry?” Bobbi asked.

Honestly, Skye wasn’t. Every time she thought about the pregnancy tests in Melinda’s bathroom, she got the uncomfortable nervous feeling in her tummy. It didn’t make her want to eat, but Skye couldn’t really think of another method to stop Bobbi asking her any more about the secret, so instead, she nodded.

“Come on then.” Bobbi said, climbing out of Skye’s bed and helping her out after. “Let’s go see what we can whip up for dinner.”

Skye took her hand and followed Bobbi out of the bedroom. It was quiet in the house. She assumed Clint and Nat were still in their bedroom with the dog, although she couldn’t hear them, and she guessed the barren space downstairs meant Melinda had gone somewhere else in the house and that Phil and Hunter were still out playing cat and mouse.

“Bobbi, how fast can Hunter run?” Skye asked, climbing up onto the stool in the kitchen.

Bobbi opened the freezer and began pulling various bags out. “Um, pretty fast. He used to race when he was in school.”

“How fast can Phil run?”

“Fast, too.”

Skye looked out of the window. It was getting dark. “How _far_ can Hunter run?”

Bobbi smirked at her. “He used to run cross-country. He’s good at long distance, so, far.”

“I see.” Skye said. “And how far can Phil run?”

Bobbi ran her hand through her hair. “Let’s hope not as far as Hunter.”

…

Twice Lance had ran away from one of his wife’s parents today. Twice. That was two times too many in his book, but at least he was getting exercise.

“Come back here, Hunter.” Phil shouted after him as he vaulted over a little wall and sprinted through someone’s front yard. “Come back and face me like a man!”

Lance spared a look behind him, then wished he hadn’t bothered. Phil was fuming. And Phil was _fast._

“No thank you.” Hunter called back.

“Coward.”

“Yep.” Hunter agreed. “I’m terrified.”

Phil was catching up to him. “You can’t run forever, Hunter.”

“I can try.” Lance shouted, and tried to remember everything his P.E. teacher had told him about stamina.

When Lance Hunter was fifteen, he came third in the UK National Cross Country final, for the under 17s. Running far and running fast had apparently been his forte. A skill he only really discovered once his stepfather had come on the scene when he was eleven, and sometimes outrunning the man had been the only option. Young Lance had often thought his efforts to escape the wrath of his stepfather deserved more recognition than his efforts on the actual cross country courses his P.E. teacher took him to, but so was the way of life. Young Lance Hunter knew when to keep his mouth shut, anyway.

Third place in the under 17s had been a big deal. It meant he’d beaten hundreds of other kids in the whole of the UK to get there, something he attempted to explain to his mother one night when she asked why the hell he needed new trainers when she’d only just bought him some. Lance bit his tongue and didn’t tell her she hadn’t bought him _any_ new shoes in over a year. She said that if he wanted new trainers, he’d have to pay for them himself and to leave her alone to watch the soaps. Of course, at the time, Lance had been fifteen and frankly, not very employable if his school record was anything to go by, so instead he nicked the money out of his stepdad’s wallet when he was drunk. Too drunk to ever realise Lance was the one who took it, and not one of the lads down the pub.

Running in shoes he’d bought with dirty money, and a black eye he’d blamed on a football injury, young Lance Hunter ran his way to third place. It had been one of his proudest moments, even if his Mum hadn’t bothered to come and see him. It didn’t matter anyway because he’d gotten a trophy and everything. Quite a big one, with a bronze cup on a marble podium, and he’d had to wait for an hour after the race for his name to be etched onto the little plague on the bottom.

_UK Cross Country National Final_

_Under 17s – Third Place_

_Lance Hunter_

_Brixton Harriers_

Lance had stared at that plaque all weekend, placing the trophy on his bedside cabinet so that he could look at it while he was lying in bed. And then the next week when he returned to school on the Monday morning, Mr Abingdon, his Deputy Head, had awarded Lance a special certificate in school for his efforts. At the time he’d been more embarrassed than anything else, returning back to his seat in the hall, certificate in hand and face bright red, only to be taunted by his mates for the rest of the day, but it was only banter. They all asked about his race. _Was it hard? Were you tired? How do you do it?_ He brushed them all off, feigning arrogance and declaring it was his ‘natural talent’. They didn’t have a clue that half the time Lance’s ‘natural talent’ came from necessity.

Somewhere in the boxes that remained in London, filled with his and Bobbi’s stuff waiting to be shipped over to the US, the certificate remained carefully placed inside a box of other things kept from Lance’s childhood. Awards from school, all of his football medals, the athletics and swimming badges he’d got while still at primary school, even some of his old school exercise books, all kept in a box. He didn’t have the cross-country trophy, though. When Lance’s stepdad lost on the horses, he liked to break things. As devastated as fifteen-year-old Lance had been about the destruction of his beloved trophy, he was just happy it wasn’t his face.

That memory was what Hunter found himself fixating on as he ran away from his angry father-in-law. It wasn’t necessarily a positive one, but it kept his legs moving.

Lance swallowed hard as the incline of the street began to get steeper. He had no idea where he was, having been relying on instincts to get him away from Phil, and he now regretted taking that last sharp right as Hunter’s lungs began protesting at the uphill running.

“Hunter!” Phil called after him. He sounded farther away than he had been a while back. “Hunter, stop!”

Hunter continued running. “No. I want to live!”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Phil’s voice was even quieter and Lance glanced behind him to see Bobbi’s dad standing at the bottom of the hill, leaning against a wall. “I promise I won’t kill you.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.” Hunter shouted, turning to jog backwards so he could simultaneously get further away from Phil _and_ have him in view.”

“Hunter?”

“What?”

“You’re running up someone’s driveway.”

Lance stopped running. He turned a 360, looking at his surroundings and coming to the damning conclusion that Phil was in fact correct, and that he was in fact jogging towards someone’s house, and ultimately a dead end.

“Oh.” He breathed.

“Just come down, Hunter and we can talk.” Phil called.

It took a couple of deep breaths for Lance to stop panting so heavily that he could actually reply to Phil. “When you say ‘talk’, do you mean talk, or do you mean _talk_?”

“What’s the difference?”

“In the second one, your eldest daughter becomes a widow.”

Even with the fair gap between them, Lance could see Phil rolling his eyes. “I mean talk. Like, speak with you. Have a conversation.”

It seemed almost too good to be true, and Lance had been called back with promises of good deeds before, only to have the shit kicked out of him, but Phil was different, he supposed. Phil could be scary, but he probably wouldn’t _really_ beat Lance half to death…he hoped. Plus, he didn’t really have much choice at this point, standing in the middle of a stranger’s driveway. Hunter would have to come down eventually.

“Okay,” He said, beginning the slow decline to Phil, “but I want you to take into consideration that your government still kills people for murdering other people. They’ve still got that eye for an eye thing going on. Is taking my life really worth losing yours over?”

This time Phil rolled his eyes so hard that Lance was surprised he didn’t fall over. “Come on, Hunter.” Phil said, turning and walking back down the street. “I know a place we can talk.”

…

It was getting late, already almost dark on a Sunday night, but there were a few kids left hovering around the park when Phil led Hunter into the playground. The younger man followed behind quietly, leaving a decent gap between them, probably for fear Phil would take a swing the first chance he got. Hunter was like that, Phil had noticed over the years, all brash and brazen until something seemingly harmless would spook him. Phil knew a little about Hunter’s stepfather. Not much, but enough to know Lance Hunter deserved better.

Phil sat down on the swing closest to him, and gestured for Hunter to take the one next to it. He frowned at Phil for a second before carefully lowering himself into the rubber seat.

“This is weird.” Hunter said. “I just want you to know, that the fact we are going to have this conversation in a park, on some swings, in the _dark,_ is weird.”

“I understand.” Phil smirked. “But I wanted to talk to you alone, without Bobbi.”

“I love her.” Hunter said without hesitation. The declaration took Phil aback and he found himself simply gaping at the younger man. “I do, Phil. I love Bobbi more than anything. I mean that. My little sister is an _extremely_ close second and then George Best makes it in third, but Bobbi’s right there at the top.” He gripped the chain of the swing. “I’d do anything for her. I just thought you should know that before we get started with this.”

Even though Phil knew he was meant to be livid at Lance Hunter for running off and eloping with his daughter, something in him couldn’t quite get the emotions to surface. Lance loved Bobbi more than anything, and the fact that hearing him say those words was not surprising to Phil, was surprising in itself. Apparently somewhere in Phil Coulson’s subconscious, he had been fully aware and approving of Lance Hunter’s dedication to his eldest daughter.

That all being said, the only thing Phil found himself saying was, “Who’s George Best?”

Hunter’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not, no.”

“Americans.” Lance muttered. “So uncultured.”

Phil cleared his throat and Hunter’s head popped up.

“He’s the greatest footballer of all time and that’s all you need to know on the topic.”

Phil nodded. “So he’s a soccer player?”

Hunter looked scandalised. “No. He’s a _footballer_. Actually, _was_ a footballer. He’s dead now.” He frowned. “I’m still not quite over it, to be honest.”

Smirking, Phil gave Hunter a small kick to the shin. He looked up at him.

“Hunter, just tell me something. Why did you and Bobbi get married without telling us? I mean, I assume no one else knows.” Suddenly the thought that the rest of his family had been keeping this secret from him began worming it’s way into Phil’s mind.

“No one else knew. Well, until this morning.”

That made Phil feel better.

Lance continued. “We talked about getting married.” He said. “About how it would make out lives easier, you know, visa-wise. But I didn’t propose until about three, three and a half weeks ago.” Hunter looked over at Phil sheepishly. “I was going to ask you. Do the whole asking for your blessing thing.”

Phil scoffed. “As if that would have stopped you two from doing anything if I had said no.”

“Yeah.” Lance smiled. “But I promise I was going to ask. But then, the question just came out, and Bobbi said ‘yes’, and then the next day we drove up to Gretna Green with five hundred pounds in cash and then we were married.” Hunter laughed. “I didn’t even wear a suit.” He smiled. “Bob wore that _Star Wars_ t-shirt you and Mel bought her, you know the one?”

Phil nodded. Yeah. He knew the one.

“I wish I could tell you that we eloped for some amazing, selfless reason.” Hunter said, using his feet to swing himself slightly on the swing. “But I can’t. We got married because we love each other. I suppose we couldn’t wait. I know you want me to tell you I’m sorry, Phil, to beg for your forgiveness, but I’m not sure I can do that.”

“You’re not sorry?”

Hunter shook his head and Phil took a deep breath to keep from saying some things he didn’t mean.

“I’m sorry if we hurt you and Mel. If not telling you hurt any of your feelings, but I’m glad we did it.” Hunter smiled and leaned his head against the swing’s chain. “I’ve got a wife, and she’s the most wonderful person in the world. I love her so much, Phil.”

“I know you do.” Phil said, because what else could he really say? His little girl was married, and that made him sad and elated all at the same time. He didn’t know what to feel.

He needed Melinda.

“Lance.” Phil said. “Just for the record, I would have given you my blessing.”

Lance pressed his lips together. “That means more than you’ll ever know.”

Phil looked up at the dark sky, the stars just beginning to blink into life in the clear night. It was a little cold, and the swing’s rubber seat was uncomfortable, but Phil was happy. His eldest daughter was married to someone he had to admit was a great man, his youngest daughter was the most adorable child on the planet and she had told him she loved him today, and his little Natasha, well, she had apparently conspired with Clint to get a dog so she was still in his bad books, but Phil still loved her…even despite the dog.

Stupid dog.

At least he had his amazing wife and his incredible kids; Skye, Nat, Clint, Bobbi, and he supposed, Lance now.

“Hey.” Phil kicked Hunter’s shin again to get his attention. “You’re part of this family now. I just want you to know, you’re welcome in our home at any time, for as long as you need.”

Hunter rubbed his hands together. “Is that offer an empty gesture because I am now your son-in-law, or do you really mean it?”

“I mean it.”

“Brilliant.” Hunter grinned. “Because Bobbi and I have no money and nowhere to live and we’re moving back here and I got sacked. Aren’t you pleased?” He said all in one breath.

Phil closed his eyes and tried to remember something about meditation Melinda had once told him.

“Very pleased.”

Would it be wrong of him to hit Hunter _now_?

…

Bobbi made dinner. She cooked enough to feed everyone currently staying in the house, but she and Skye were the only ones to eat together in the kitchen. She didn’t have a clue where her mother was, and the longer her father and Lance were gone, the more worried Bobbi got. To distract herself from the concern she felt for Hunter, the guilt she felt because of her mother, and the worry she felt for Skye and her secret, Bobbi began cleaning.

Skye remained in her place at the kitchen island, while Bobbi wiped down all of the countertops, watching quietly and picking at the food on her plate. For a kid who had said she was hungry, Skye wasn’t eating much. By the time Bobbi got out the mop and began washing the floor, Clint, Nat, and the dog appeared in the kitchen, sticking close to one another like a unified frontline.

“If you’re looking for food, there’s plenty left on the stove.” Bobbi said.

Clint nodded and walked over to the hob, beginning to dish out some of the food onto plates and some into a bowl. Skye jumped off her seat and scampered over to the dog, talking animatedly to Clint about the animal as it ate the food from the bowl on the floor.

Natasha wandered over to Bobbi and wrapped her arms around her waist. Bobbi’s own arms came around her younger sister.

“I feel bad.” Nat said.

Bobbi pressed her nose into Nat’s hair. Bobbi could smell she’d been using their mother’s shampoo. “In what way?”

“Guilty.” Nat whispered. “We were horrible to Mom.”

“I know.”

“I think she’s in her room.” Natasha said. “But I don’t think she wants to see us tonight.”

Rocking her little sister gently, Bobbi rubbed a hand up and down Nat’s back. “We’ll apologise tomorrow. Once Mom’s not so mad.”

“Yeah.” Natasha giggled then.

“What’s so funny, Bubba?”

Nat smiled. “When you rub my back, I can feel your rings. It’s just crazy that you’re _actually_ married.”

“You’re telling me.” Bobbi muttered. She couldn’t help smiling herself. “And from the sounds of things, you’re gonna be next.”

Nat pulled away from the embrace, blushing. “One day.”

Bobbi kissed her forehead. “One day.”

“I was thinking ‘Dave’.” Bobbi heard Clint say, and she turned her attention to where he was eating dinner over the sink and Skye was lying on the kitchen floor next to the stretched out dog, rubbing his belly. She had to admit, the dog was pretty cute.

“Nah.” Skye said, propping herself up on her elbow. “Not ‘Dave’, he just doesn’t look like a ‘Dave’.”

“Maybe if we call him ‘Cap’, Dad will be more likely to let us keep him.” Nat said.

“Unlikely.” Bobbi smirked. “What about ‘George’?”

Clint grimaced. “Why ‘George’?”

Bobbi shrugged and thought to her husband. “No reason.”

“Not ‘George’ either.” Skye said, running her fingers through the dog’s blonde fur.

Bobbi glanced at the kitchen clock. “Skye, I think it’s your bedtime now.”

Skye sat up. “But Mel’s not here.”

“She’s in her room, but you’ve got school tomorrow.” Nat said. “I think you should go to bed now, malyutka.”

Skye leaned over and hugged the dog. “I hope he doesn’t have to go.” She said, looking up at Clint. “I like him.”

Clint smiled. “Well, when you see Mel and Phil, tell them that. Put in a good word for him.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s get you to bed, honey.” Bobbi said, and without more than a little grumble under her breath, Skye followed Bobbi upstairs.

…

Skye had been tossing and turning in bed for what felt like a lifetime.

Really, Skye didn’t want to go to bed without seeing Melinda or Phil. Especially Melinda. Every night, Melinda would put Skye to bed, and she would lie next to Skye so they could talk. Sometimes she read stories, sometimes Mel made them up, and sometimes they just talked about their days.

Bobbi had made sure Skye got bathed and ready for bed, and even though she read Skye one of the stories out of the book Miss Potts gave her at school to practice her reading, it wasn’t the same as having Mel there. She missed her.

Skye couldn’t get to sleep. Even cuddling Mr. Snow wasn’t helping. Skye wanted Melinda.

She left Mr. Snow in bed, tucking him in under the covers and kissing his nose. “Sleep tight.” Skye whispered to him, and slipped out of her bedroom as quietly as she could manage.

The fact that Phil and Melinda’s bedroom was just across the hall from Skye’s was something that the little girl was forever grateful for. It meant that slipping from one room to the other could be done without any of her siblings realising Skye had even left her bed.

The little girl opened Melinda’s door without knocking. She knew that was against the rules, but today hadn’t exactly been a normal day. Many rules seemed to have gone out of the window and Skye didn’t really care about rules right now, she just wanted Mel….she wanted her mommy.

Melinda was sleeping when Skye entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Phil wasn’t there, but Skye had heard some voices downstairs while she was in bed and she suspected one of them was Phil’s. Melinda lay on her back with the covers tangled around her feet, one arm under her head, the other over her belly.

_That’s where the baby is_ , Skye thought. It made her tummy tight to think about, but somewhere else, somewhere deeper, there was another feeling. It was the same feeling Skye felt when she made Bobbi laugh, or when Natasha gave her cuddles. She ignored it.

Skye climbed onto the bed as carefully as she could to not wake up Melinda, and lay down next to her, shuffling down the bed until she was eye-level with Mel’s belly. She gently moved Melinda’s hand away from her stomach, and replaced it with her own.

“Are you in there?” Skye whispered against Mel’s belly. Her tummy didn’t look like it had a baby in it or feel like it. Skye pressed her ear against Mel’s side. It didn’t sound like a baby was in there, not that Skye knew what she was meant to be listening for

“Hello?” Skye tried, listening again for any sign of the baby. “Baby?” She whispered, addressing it directly. Weren’t babies meant to kick, or move, or at least to _something_?“You’re ignoring me.”

“Fine.” Skye mumbled, shifting to move back up the bed and cuddle more comfortably against Melinda. “Maybe you’re asleep, baby.”

The little girl slipped her thumb into her mouth and pillowed her head on Melinda’s chest. She wrapped Mel’s arm around herself and closed her eyes. “I don’t like you, baby.” Skye murmured around her thumb. “We’re not friends.”

Skye thought she felt Mel’s arm tighten around her, but when she opened her eyes, Melinda still seemed to be asleep. Taking the opportunity while she was still awake, Skye reached up and pressed a kiss to Melinda’s cheek.

“I love you, Mommy.” The words felt right leaving Skye’s mouth. She repeated them to make sure. “I love you, Mommy.” They definitely felt right.

Skye smiled, closed her eyes and snuggled back down.

“Baby, I don’t like you.”

…

Melinda pretended to be asleep. She really didn’t think she could talk to Phil right now. A much as she needed him, she just needed some time.

But then the tiny shift in weight on the bed gave her a clue that it was not Phil climbing in with her, but her baby girl, Skye. Mel was about to indicate that she was awake, when Skye began speaking.

“Are you in there?” Skye whispered, her little hand on Mel’s belly.

Melinda’s heart stopped. She knew.

“Hello? Baby?” Skye spoke directly into Mel’s tummy. “You’re ignoring me.”

Oh, God. Skye _knew._

“Fine. Maybe you’re asleep, baby.”

_How the hell did she know?_

Skye moved back up the bed and cuddled close to Melinda, resting her head on her chest. It took everything Mel had to continue pretending to be asleep and not to wrap an arm around Skye. It didn’t seem to matter though, for Skye lifted her arm around herself anyway.

“I don’t like you baby.” Skye’s words were slurred but Mel heard them. She swallowed and willed her breathing to remain steady. “We’re not friends.”

It was almost funny.

Mel couldn’t help but tighten her grip on little Skye, she wanted nothing more than to comfort her baby, but didn’t dare let her know she had been eavesdropping on her.

Skye kissed her cheek. “I love you, Mommy.”

Oh, her baby girl. Melinda could have cried.

“I love you, Mommy.”

Her little Skye. Her _daughter._

“Baby, I don’t like you.”

_Well shit,_ Mel thought. _How the hell do I handle this one?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please! I adore reading them. Hit me up on tumblr, too if you want to chat. :) xx


	16. Skye's Happy Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my friends! How are you all? Like last chapter, thank you very much to the people who I've been chatting with, it's always a pleasure. Especially to those who I've only recently started talking to. 
> 
> Not too much angst in this chapter, but if you want to read a fic and cry forever, check out my mate, Stacy's huntingbird fic [Small Bump](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3985546)

After putting Skye to bed, Bobbi went back downstairs to hang out with Clint and Nat. The three of them sat on the couch, watching some weird documentary about various landmarks in Europe that no one had ever heard of. Bobbi suspected her sister and Clint were absorbing just as much information from the show as she was, which was very little.

Her mind was on other things. Her husband. Her Dad. Her _Mom_ ; who she still desperately needed to apologise to. And a tiny part of Bobbi’s mind was on at what point _after_ her apology to her mother, should she bring up the fact that she and Lance had no money, no home lined up, and that ninety per cent of their stuff was still back in England. She should probably leave a little while before bringing that up, maybe go with the original plan of getting her parents good and drunk first.

The dog lay across Clint’s legs with his head in Natasha’s lap, and Bobbi found herself stroking his head without even thinking about it. She also found herself nibbling on her sleeve every so often and berated herself each time she did.

The fifth time Bobbi had to remove her sweatshirt sleeve from her mouth, she grumbled under her breath. “Stop it.” As if that would somehow coax her subconscious into acting like an adult.

“It’s okay.” Nat said quietly, eyes still on the TV. “Sometimes I still bite my mouth. I only notice when it gets sore.”

“That’s different though.” Bobbi mumbled.

“How?” This time Nat actually turned to her older sister. “How is it different?”

“ _I’m_ an adult.” Bobbi pushed both sleeves up past her elbows when the urge to chew them became stronger again. “I’m supposed to have grown out of things like this. I’m _married._ ”

Nat turned back to the TV. “I’m nineteen. I’m an adult, too.”

“I’m twenty.” Clint shrugged. “Sometimes I do weird shit. Stuff I think I used to maybe do as I kid.” He sighed. “I dunno, I guess sometimes being an adult doesn’t mean you’re _all_ grown up.”

“I’m married.” Bobbi said again.

Clint scratched the dog’s back. “So you keep saying.” He rested his head on Nat’s shoulder. “I don’t see how that matters.”

“I guess I always thought that when I grew up and got married, I’d be…” Bobbi leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes, “normal? I don’t know. Just, I’d be...” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “I thought once I grew up, I wouldn’t be messed up anymore. I wouldn’t be _broken_.”

Nat’s took her hand in hers. “You are _not_ broken.” Her little sister said. “Bobbi.”

Bobbi opened her eyes. Natasha was frowning at her.

“You are _not_ broken.” Tasha said again. “None of us are. We’re just…different.”

“ _Unusual_.” Clint added. “More interesting than the average person.” He sounded almost proud. “We haven’t exactly had _normal_ lives. You can’t expect to be a ‘normal’ adult, Bobbi, when you’ve seen the shit you have...” He rubbed his eyes. “…that any of us have.”

“I didn’t…” Bobbi looked at her sister and Clint. “I didn’t mean that you guys were, I just, I…” She looked down at her hand clinging onto Natasha’s. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nat said.

“I’m sorry.” Bobbi repeated. “You’re right. We’re not broken.”

Clint nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

They sat quietly, none of them talking, Natasha’s fingers playing with the engagement and wedding rings on Bobbi’s finger, until the documentary on the TV finished and a new show about rich people buying expensive houses began playing. Clint switched it off before the opening credits even finished.

“I think we can all agree that watching some idiot with too much cash buying a house with thirty rooms just so he can avoid the death glares from his trophy wife, is a waste of all of our time.” Clint muttered.

Natasha and Bobbi didn’t argue.

Clint tugged at the dog’s collar until he hopped down from the couch. Bobbi wanted to ask if Clint had thought any more about naming him, but it seemed unfair when the animal was going to be gone by tomorrow, and she didn’t want to upset Clint.

He ruffled the fur on the dog’s head. “I’m gonna take him out for a walk before we go to bed.” He stood and fished the dog’s leash out from somewhere down the side of the couch. “You wanna come?” Clint looked between the two girls, but Natasha shook her head.

“You go. I want to talk with my sister.”

“Okay.” Clint leaned over the couch to peck Nat on the lips. “I’ll see you in a bit.” He left through the back door, the dog trotting along beside him.

Natasha pulled her feet up onto the sofa, crossing her legs and shifting her entire posture to face Bobbi. The younger of the two sisters reached out and gently brushed some of her elder sister’s hair away from her face, tucking the blonde strands behind her ears.

“I don’t like it when you talk about yourself in that way.” Nat said.

Natasha sounded so much like their mother, that Bobbi found herself looking down at her hands to avoid her sister’s eyes. She still felt infinity guilty over the way she had spoken to her mom.

“What way?” Bobbi asked

“Like you’re worth any less, just because-,”

“I’m sorry, Nat.” Bobbi interjected. “When I said ‘broken’, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean you were-,”

“I know.” Nat said. “And I don’t care. I am as messed up as they come, but I don’t care. I _care_ that you feel that way about yourself.”

Bobbi over at her little sister. “You used to care. From what I can remember, you cared a whole lot.” Memories of a younger Nat protesting she absolutely _did not_ need to see a psychologist invaded Bobbi’s mind. She smiled. “You used to tell Mom you were fine, and then you’d have a nightmare and nearly tear the whole house apart.”

Nat glanced away. “I was an idiot.”

“No. You were a kid.” Bobbi smiled and nudged Nat with her shoulder. “Still are.”

Tasha looked back to Bobbi. “Do you remember when I first came here and Mom used to put me to bed, and you would sneak into my room once she’d gone back downstairs?”

Bobbi frowned. “I didn’t realise you knew I did that.” She had, for months, waited until she thought Natasha had fallen asleep to go into her bedroom and check on her. Make sure her little sister was alright. “You used to run away a lot.” Bobbi said quietly. “I got scared you’d climb out of your window and one day you’d never come back.”

“You used to talk to me.” Tasha shuffled closer to Bobbi. “I always pretended to be asleep, but I listened to you, even before I could understand English, I listened to you.”

It was strange, but Bobbi found herself blushing. “I thought you were asleep.” She picked at the nail varnish on her thumbnail. “I didn’t think you’d remember anything I said to you.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course.” Bobbi said sincerely. “Everything. Every word.”

“You used to tell me I was safe.” Nat said with a little smile. She laid her head on Bobbi’s shoulder and pressed her nose into her sweatshirt. “You used to tell me I didn’t have to run away. That I was loved. That _you_ loved me.” Nat leaned up and kissed Bobbi’s cheek, wrapping both arms around her sister. “That meant a lot to me. It still does. Thank you.”

“I thought that if I talked to you when you were sleeping,” Bobbi shook her head, “I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d start believing me. Your subconscious would believe you were safe and loved and you would stop running away.”

“It did work.” Nat said. “We’re not broken, Bobbi.”

“I know.”

“We’re not.” Tasha cuddled into Bobbi. “I used to think I was, a long time ago. But now I’m happy and safe and I have people who love me. So do you.”

Bobbi grinned. God, she loved her sister. How was this gorgeous little thing, cheering her on, the same kid who once bit a chunk out of Bobbi’s arm when she was fourteen? “We got it pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah.” Nat grinned. “We do. Do you still feel embarrassed about chewing your sleeves?” Nat asked quietly.

“Maybe.” Bobbi answered, just as quiet. “But I’m trying not to be. Some people chew pens or bite their nails without realising their doing it. It’s almost the same thing, right?”

“Yeah.” Nat said.

“And Hunter doesn’t mind.” Bobbi smiled. “He says it’s cute.”

Tasha rubbed tiredly at her eyes. “Want me to tell you something embarrassing that Clint does, to make you feel better?”

Bobbi smirked. “Won’t he get mad if you tell me one of his secrets?”

“No. He doesn’t care.”

“Okay, then. Make me feel better about myself with Clint’s misfortune.”

Natasha chuckled into Bobbi’s shoulder. “Sometimes when he’s asleep, he talks. Like full sentences and everything. Stuff that makes total sense, and the best part is, he can’t hear himself, to wake himself up.” She grinned.

“That’s pretty funny.”

“Right?” Nat giggled. “Sometimes he wakes me up talking and I just lie awake and listen because it’s so funny.”

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to burst your bubble, but Clint’s not the only one who talks in his sleep.” Bobbi smirked. “You’re pretty talkative yourself.”

Natasha’s cheeks turned scarlet. “No, no I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” Bobbi laughed. “You _totally_ do.”

Nat huffed. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not, Bubba.”

“Clint’s never complained.”

“Clint’s deaf.”

“Damnit.” Nat frowned. “I…I don’t say anything, you know, weird, right?”

The front door opened. Bobbi didn’t pay it much note only expecting Clint to walk in with the dog, and she remained cuddled up in Natasha’s embrace. Nat didn’t bother turning around either, still nuzzling into Bobbi’s shoulder with red cheeks. It wasn’t often Nat blushed, and Bobbi loved she’d found something to tease her sister with.

Bobbi smiled at her sister’s discomfort. “I wouldn’t know. I never know what you’re saying in your sleep.” She shrugged. “It’s always in Russian.”

“Oh, thank God.” Nat said.

“No need to thank me.” Lance said, striding into the living room. He grinned at Bobbi and Nat. “Evening, ladies.”

Natasha looked up at him. “That was you just coming in?”

“Yeah.”

“And me.” Phil added, walking over to stand by Hunter. “Who else would it be?”

“Clint.” Nat said, then looked away from her father. “He took the dog for a walk.”

“I see.” Phil said.

Bobbi extracted herself from Natasha and stood to walk over to Lance. He met her half way and pulled her into a tight hug in the middle of the living room, kissing her temple.

“I love you.” He mumbled into her hair.

“Love you, too.” She replied, tucking herself into his side. Bobbi pulled back slightly to inspect Lance’s face. “Oh good.” She grinned, reaching out to pat his cheek, if only to check he was _actually_ there and in one piece. “Dad didn’t kill you, then?”

“Didn’t even punch me.” Lance grinned cockily. “Chased me through the streets for about a mile and a half, but I’m alright.”

“Don’t push it, Hunter.” Phil said, but he was smiling at him and Bobbi.

“Thanks, Dad.” Bobbi said, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly grateful for her family. She left Lance to hug her father tightly, not letting up even when she felt Natasha approach from her side and join the hug.

Phil’s arms tightened around his daughters. “Girls, I appreciate the hug and I love you both very much, but what’s the occasion?” He pulled back slightly and tweaked Nat’s nose. “When I left I distinctly remember being very angry at you. Hugs won’t change my opinion on the dog.”

Nat didn’t remove herself from the cuddle, but she pouted. “But you let Bobbi keep Hunter.”

“Hey.” Hunter said from somewhere behind them.

“Actually,” Phil laughed, “I let _you_ keep Clint. And I refuse to let Clint keep the dog.” He kissed Nat’s head. “But I love you, Bubba. I do.”

“I know, Dad. I love you, too.” Nat sounded tired, Bobbi thought. She sounded like Bobbi felt.

Phil ushered them back over to the couch and sat down in between his eldest daughters. Hunter perched on the arm of the couch closest to Bobbi, putting a hand on her shoulder. She reached up and laced her fingers with his.

“Where’s your mother?” Phil asked, looking to Bobbi. “I need to have a chat with her about you and Hunter staying her for a while.”

Bobbi frowned.

“I told him.” Lance said. “Everything.” He squeezed Bobbi’s hand. “He says we can stay here until we get back on our feet.”

She turned to her father. “Thanks, Dad. Really, thank you. It won’t be long, I swear, and I’ll help around the house, and-,”

Her dad held a hand up in front of her face. “You’re welcome, Bobbi. But you have to know you are _always_ welcome here.” Phil looked over to Nat. “Both of you. This is your home.”

“Thank you, Dad.” Bobbi said again.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Now, your mother?”

“She’s upstairs.” Nat said. “In your room. She’s, well, she’s been up there for a while.”

Phil frowned. “How long?”

“Since before Skye went to bed.” Bobbi said. “We, um…” she glanced at Nat. Her sister was looking down at her lap. “We had a fight.”

“Oh?” Phil looked between his daughters.

“We said some bad things to her.” Tasha admitted in a small voice. “Clint, too.”

Bobbi swallowed. “I think we really upset her. I want to go apologise, but if she wants to be alone…”

“Okay.” Phil stood up. He leaned over to kiss Bobbi and Natasha on the cheek.

“Where’s mine?” Hunter smirked, and Bobbi gave him a half hearted smack on the arm.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Leave apologising until tomorrow. Your Mom’s been a little under the weather lately, let her rest.”

“Is she sick?” Nat asked.

“I think she’s just been working a little too hard. Try not to worry.” Phil squeezed Nat’s shoulder. “Have you guys had dinner?”

“Yeah. Bobbi made it. There’s still some left.”

“Good, thanks, honey.” Phil smiled at Bobbi. “I’m going to take some food upstairs, check on your Mom, then I’m hitting the hay, too. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow, okay.”

Bobbi and Nat both nodded.

“Good.” Phil said, smiling. “Don’t worry too much, girls. It’s been a crazy day. Tomorrow will be better.”

“It will?” Bobbi asked, looking to her father for assurance.

“Yes.” He said without hesitation. “And you know why that is?”

“Why?”

“Because that dog will be out of my house.”

Bobbi snorted at the wounded look on Nat’s face.

“Not nice, Dad.” Tasha huffed.

Their father grinned, making his way into the kitchen. “I love you, too, Natasha.”

…

Phil wasn’t quite sure what had happened between the kids and his wife after he had left the house to chase Hunter around the neighbourhood. The girls seemed reluctant to go into it, though from their desperation to apologise to their mother, Phil suspected, it hadn’t been a good night.

He had intended to look in on Skye, who Bobbi had apparently put to bed a while before, but with his laptop under one arm and the other precariously balancing a plate of food and holding a bottle of water, Phil decided that he would check in on his youngest _after_ putting down all of his things in his bedroom. However, when Phil awkwardly shouldered open the bedroom door and stepped inside, it became apparent very quickly that he needn’t leave the room to check on Skye.

The little girl lay draped across Melinda, head on her chest, hand on her stomach, sleeping soundly. Melinda was sleeping, too, one arm protectively thrown over Skye’s back, tucking the child into her side.

Careful not to disturb his girls, Phil put down his food and laptop at the desk at the far end of the room and settled down to do some work while he ate his dinner. The work that needed to be done before the next morning, consisted of some incredibly lengthy data entry that Phil could probably have had one of the college kids they hired to do, but he felt guilty for sticking them with something so tedious when they already had so many papers to write to begin with. And anyway, the data entry was mind-numbing enough that Phil could complete the work, eat his dinner, _and_ let his mind wander, and Phil liked to let his mind wander sometimes.

He thought about the kids downstairs. Nat, Bobbi, Lance. He thought about the fact that he had to, at some point tomorrow, do some real organising of their finances in order to set up some sort of short-term loan system for Lance and Bobbi. Phil would have preferred to just gift his daughter and her new husband enough money to get them back onto their feet, but Lance had been adamant that that any money was going to be a loan, any stay in their house was going to be temporary, and that he and Bobbi wanted to stand on their own two feet. Phil respected Lance Hunter.

Phil also found himself thinking about Clint and Nat and their stupid dog. He still felt bad shouting at them, but the kids knew he didn’t like dogs, knew that it was unreasonable for them to care for one when they were out all day at work. He suspected that’s what much of the ‘fight’ Nat and Bobbi had mentioned was about. Natasha and Clint both got awfully passionate about the things they cared about, and it often led to fiery arguments when things didn’t go their way. Phil had been hoping the two of them were growing out of having hormone-fuelled arguments, but apparently it was still a risk.

Bobbi, though, Phil couldn’t quite imagine what her involvement in the fight had been. She had appeared very upset about the whole thing. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Phil that her sleeves had been pulled up to her elbows, with little damp stains on the cuffs. Of all the kids, Clint and Trip included, Bobbi tended to be the least confrontational with her parents. It was just in her nature. She and Nat had fought like cat and dog, but with Phil and Mel, any disagreement tended to end in the silent treatment and some cursory glares.

Dinner finished, work competed, and having changed into his nightwear, Phil climbed into bed beside Melinda and Skye. He tried to be quiet, to avoid jostling them as he settled down, but apparently he had failed to succeed. Skye sat up, looking around herself and rubbing at her eyes.

She looked at him through sleep-addled eyes. “S’morning?”

“No, sweetie.” Phil smiled. “Go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Skye blinked slowly and looked over at Melinda. “Mommy’s sleepin’.” She slurred.

Phil smiled at her. “Mommy?” He asked, wondering when that new title had come into play.

Skye lay down next to him. “Mommy’s sleepin’.” She said again, closing her eyes. Her thumb went into her mouth, and her fingers hooked over her nose. There was still some green paint from the fence in her nail beds.

Phil flicked off the lamp by his bed, and lay down. Skye’s hair tickled his nose, and he had to brush it away and tuck it behind her ears. She made a little whiny noise and scrunched up her nose.

“Bedtime.” She mumbled around her thumb.

“Yeah.” Phil chuckled. “Hey, Skye?”

“Hm?” Skye’s eyes flickered under her eyelids, but she didn’t open them.

“Don’t ever grow up.” Phil whispered. “Kids are a lot less complicated when they’re little. Try not to grow up, okay?”

“’Kay.” Skye agreed.

“Night-night, baby.”

“M’the baby.” Skye muttered.

Phil smiled. “Yeah, you are.”

“Good.”

After that, Skye’s breathing became significantly heavier as she dropped into a heavy slumber.

“I love you.” Phil whispered to her. He reached over Skye to brush Melinda’s hand with his own. “I love you.” He told his sleeping wife.

Phil loved his family. He was happy.

…

From the moment she woke up bright and early on Monday morning, Melinda pretended that everything was perfectly normal, and she absolutely was _not_ freaking the fuck out on the inside. This lasted exactly seven minutes and twelve seconds, until she found herself bent over the toilet, puking up her guts.

Phil was already up and out of bed, having decided to get breakfast started downstairs, so Mel didn’t need to worry about him seeing her in this unpleasant state, but little Skye stood shyly at the bathroom door, still in her pyjamas. The little girl nibbled on her thumb.

“You said you weren’t sick.” She mumbled.

Melinda sat by the toilet, reaching up to flush it and knock down the seat. “Can get my tooth brush sweetie?” She asked Skye in a pathetic excuse to distract the child.

Skye complied, even applying the toothpaste for her.

“Thanks.” Mel spent more time than was strictly necessary brushing her teeth, avoiding Skye’s gaze by getting up and spitting into the sink. Another wave of nausea attacked, and Mel had to close her eyes and breathe heavily in through her nose and out thorough her mouth, to keep from throwing up again. Deciding it was too much effort to do anything other than sit down right now, Mel took her residence back on the tiled bathroom floor by the toilet bowl.

“You said you weren’t sick.” Skye said again, this time louder. She was hovering back by the door.

Melinda smiled at her. She knew full well Skye was aware that she wasn’t sick. “I’m not.” She said. “I promise, I’m not sick.”

Skye frowned. “But you threw up.” She said urgently. Her eyes were glistening and her expression was frightened. “I _saw_ you.”

It suddenly occurred to Melinda, that even if Skye _was_ aware that she was pregnant (and she still wasn’t quite sure how Skye had in fact figured it out), it was likely that Skye was unaware of the side effects of being pregnant To eight-year-old Skye, it probably seemed as though Melinda was just pregnant _and sick._ Mel sighed. The little thing was probably worried about her.

“Skye.” Mel said gently.

Skye turned her head away from her.

“Skye.” She said again. “Honey.”

The little girl eventually turned back to her, but her little frown was as prominent as ever.

Melinda sighed. “Come here.” She held out her arms and stretched her legs across the tiled floor.

Skye leaned against the door frame.

“Please.” Mel tried again. “I need hugs.”

“Why?” Skye asked. “Cause you’re sick, right?”

“I’m not sick.”

“But you-,”

“ _Please,_ Skye.” Melinda’s arms were still open, and Skye dropped to the ground and slid along the bathroom floor on her knees until she landed in her arms. Mel lifted the little girl into her lap, and Skye immediately cuddled into her, tucking her head under Mel’s cheek.

Skye was quiet. Her thumb crept up to her mouth, but Melinda pulled her hand back down.

“Don’t suck you thumb, it’s not-,”

“Bedtime.” Skye finished. “I know.”

Melinda stroked her hair. “Good girl.” She kissed Skye’s hair. “I love you, so much. You know that, right?” Mel rocked Skye on her lap. “No matter what, I love you.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound convinced.” Mel cocked an eyebrow at the little girl.

“I still think you’re lying about being sick.”

“I’m not.” Mel said. She shifted Skye on her lap so that she could look at her in the eye. “I _promise_ you, that I’m okay. I know I threw up, and I’m sorry you saw that, it must have been scary, but it’s…normal.” She silently begged Skye to understand what she was attempting to explain _without_ revealing that she was aware Skye knew about the pregnancy, but the little girl just looked incredibly confused.

Melinda sighed. “You and I need to have a talk, don’t we baby?”

Skye reached out and put a gentle hand on her cheek. “You’re my Mommy.” She said.

“Yes.” Melinda breathed.

The dark eyes of her youngest daughter bore into her own with an intensity Melinda honestly thought she had never truly experienced before. Skye’s hand remained on her cheek, little fingers tracing the hairline by her ear.

“ _My_ Mommy.” Skye said.

“Yes. Always.”

“Forever and ever?”

“Forever and ever.” Melinda confirmed. She covered Skye’s hand with her own, and turned her head to press a kiss to her daughter’s palm.

“Mommy,” Skye tucked herself back under Melinda’s chin, “I love you.”

Mel squeezed her eyes shut. “My baby, I love you so much.”

She opened her eyes when the sound of someone entering the bedroom echoed through the ensuite. Sure enough, Phil walked into the bathroom, frowning at the scene in front of him.

“Everything okay?” He asked, looking between Skye and Mel, both still huddled on the ground.

“We’re fine.” Mel smiled.

“Really?” Phil asked, “Because you’re sitting worryingly close to the toilet.”

For half a second, Melinda panicked, suddenly aware she had no explanation for this position without worrying Phil or making him suspicious. She knew he would have to find out eventually, but Melinda wanted to be able to think about the whole situation for longer than a second without wanting to throw herself out of a window, before she _actually_ told him. Well, throwing herself out of a window was perhaps a bit extreme, but the sentiment still stood.

As it happened, Mel’s panic was unwarranted, as it was Skye who saved her from coming up with an excuse.

“I didn’t feel good.” Skye said, looking up at Phil through dark lashes.

“Oh?” He said. “You’re sick.”

Skye looked back at Melinda. “No. I don’t think so. I just felt sick.”

“Right. So your on the bathroom floor, why?”

“Because if I was gonna puke, the toilet’s right there.” Skye said like it was obvious. Melinda found herself smirking. “And I needed a hug off Mommy.”

And that little word had Mel grinning from ear to ear. She kissed Skye’s cheek.

“And now you’re all better?” Mel asked.

Skye smiled at her. “I dunno. You tell me.”

“You’re fine.” Melinda deadpanned, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

The little girl grinned. “Good.”

Phil just looked between his wife and daughter, more baffled at the exchange than anything else. “I only came up here to tell you breakfast is ready. So, you know, I’ll be downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ll be down in a little bit.” Mel assured him, and Phil nodded, leaving Skye and Melinda alone once more. She tickled Skye’s side until the little girl looked at her. “I love you.”

Skye hugged Mel tightly around the waist. “I love you, Mommy.”

…

The dog hadn’t been in the house when Skye had gone down for breakfast. She was little bummed at that because Mommy had told her that Clint and Natasha were finding somewhere else for the dog to live and that he would be gone by the time she got home from school. Skye had wanted to play with him before he went away but Phil said Clint and Nat were already gone before even _he_ woke up so they must have been up super early.

Bobbi and Hunter were gone, too, although Phil said he saw them before they left the house. They were out looking for an apartment, and Hunter was looking for a job. That’s what Mommy and Phil were talking about as they drove Skye to school. She listened quietly and watched the raindrops run down the outside of the car window. Maybe Miss Potts wouldn’t let them outside for recess today if it was raining.

“I wish he would just let us give him a job, even if it’s just until he finds one on his own.” Phil was saying. He was driving this morning.

Mommy was in the passenger seat, sipping on her flask of tea and nibbling a cereal bar. She had said she didn’t want scrambled eggs like Skye was having. Skye thought that if _she_ had thrown up, she probably wouldn’t want any eggs either.

“It’s a pride thing, Phil.” Mommy said. “You get that. He wants to work, but he doesn’t want it to be handed to him on a plate.”

“I _understand_.” Phil sighed. “I just…Hunter needs a job, we could give him one. It seems silly that he’s going to be out all day looking for work when it’s right here waiting for him.”

“Give him time.” Mommy said. “Just see. You never know, he might find something he’d rather do than work in a gym with his wife’s family all day.”

“Wife.” Phil muttered. “ _Wife._ Can’t get used to that.”

Skye giggled.

“Are you laughing at me?” Phil grinned at her through the rear-view mirror.

“Yeah.” Skye nodded. “Cause you’re funny, Phil.”

“Well, I _am_ pretty funny.”

They stopped off at the bank on the way to Skye’s school. Phil went inside and Mommy stayed in the car with Skye. She had stopped eating the cereal bar, only having consumed about a third of it, and wrapped the rest of it up, slipping it into the glove box.

“You’re supposed to eat breakfast every day.” Skye said, unbuckling her seatbelt and poking her head between the two front seats.

“Yeah? And who told you that?” Mommy smiled. Her skin was pale, but she hadn’t put any make up on after they got dressed, so maybe that as the reason.

“You did.” Skye said. “You said it’s the most important meal of the day.”

“I know, but I’m not feeling up to it this morning.”

“Are you gonna puke again?” Skye put a hand on Mommy’s forehead because that’s what you did when someone wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t know why, exactly.

Mommy laughed and removed Skye’s hand from her face. “I don’t think I’m likely to throw up again. I hope.” She kissed Skye’s knuckles. “Thank you for covering for me this morning.”

“S’okay.” Skye shrugged. “I could tell you didn’t want Phil to know.”

“I didn’t want him to _worry_.”

“Right.” Skye looked at the digital clock on the car’s dashboard. School would be starting soon. “I can just stay with you today.” She said.

Mommy cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re sick. I can help you at work.”

“But what about school?”

Skye grumbled. “What about it?”

“Honey,” Mommy ran her hand through Skye’s ponytail, “you have to go to school. I’ll be fine.”

She wasn’t convinced. Skye thought that maybe she ought to tell Mommy that she knew about the baby, because maybe Mommy didn’t realise that if she was sick, then the baby might get sick, too. That could happen, right? A thought hit Skye then. What if Mommy threw up again, and she puked so much that she puked up the baby? Skye didn’t like the baby, but she didn’t want it to be puked up.

“I think I should stay with you today, Mommy.” Skye said. She’d take care of her, just to be safe. She could miss one day of school.

“No. Don’t worry about me.” Mommy said in her ‘don’t argue with me’ voice. “You’re going to school.”

Phil came back, then. He had a pile of papers in his hands that he passed over to Mommy as he got back in the car.

“What are you doing out of your seat, little one?” He playfully pinched Skye’s side.

“I’m not going to school today.” She told him.

“Oh?” He looked over at Mommy.

“Yes, she is.” She said.

“But I _can’t_ go to school.” Skye stressed, turning her attentions to Phil. He was way more likely to break than Mommy.

“And why not?”

“Because…” Skye looked over to Mommy, smiled, then looked back to Phil. “I’m sick.”

“You are?” Phil sounded genuinely concerned, and Skye made the effort to stick her bottom lip out and look as sad as she could.

“M’very sick, Phil.” She pouted. “Too sick for school.”

Phil frowned. “Maybe she is sick, Mel.”

“Skye’s fine.”

“But she didn’t feel well this morning.” He said and Skye nodded. “I don’t want her in school if she’s unwell.”

“Phil,” Mommy was smirking, “I promise you, she’s fine.”

“I’m sick.” Skye huffed. “I swear!”

Mommy kissed her forehead. “You’re a good little actress, but you don’t fool me. Get back in your seat.”

“Fine.” Skye climbed back in her car seat and strapped herself in.

Phil hesitated, but one look from Mommy and he was pulling out of the bank and taking Skye to school. If she absolutely _had_ to go to school, Skye just hoped Phil was up to the job of taking care of Mommy.

…

It was still raining, even by recess, so Miss Potts said they had to stay indoors. Skye didn’t really mind, she liked having free time in their classroom, but Grant was disappointed because he wanted to play spies and they weren’t allowed to run around inside. Instead, he and Skye took residence at the table by Miss Potts’ desk with a couple of the other kids in their class, and played with the _Happy Families_ cards.

“I don’t like this game.” Grant said, setting his completed ‘Green Family’ on the desk.

Skye looked over her cards. “Why? ‘Cause it means you gotta sit down for five seconds.” She grinned.

Grant Ward was always up at every opportunity. He didn’t like sitting down for long periods of time. Even when they were meant to be doing class work, he often left his chair and wandered around the classroom until Miss Potts’ told him to sit down.

“It’s boring.” He said. “But it makes no sense either.”

“Huh?” Jessica, a girl who sometimes helped Skye with her spellings, asked.

Grant held up the Green family. “Mom, Dad, brother and a sister.” He pointed to each card in turn. “How many people have a family like _that_?”

Skye couldn’t answer. She was sure some of the people in her class lived like that, but she didn’t know anyone. Instead she shrugged.

“I got a Dad, and I used to have a Mom, but no brother.” Jessica nudged the other person at their table, Peter. “You know any families like that, Pete?”

Peter shook his head. He didn’t talk much.

“ _Happy Families_ ,” Grant read off the card box, “that’s just stupid. I’m happy in my family, and _my_ family ain’t nothing like these ones.” He nodded to Skye. “You, too. Your family is better than this, I bet.”

“It is.” Skye said.

“What’s your family like?” Jessica asked.

“Oh. Well, I um,” Skye reached over Grant to get some paper and a pencil off Miss Potts’ desk. She began drawing rectangles on the paper, copying off the cards on the desk. “I got two sisters,” she told Jessica, doing a quick sketch of Bobbi on one of the rectangles and one of Nat in another. “And I got a, well, he’s kind of a brother. He’s Tasha’s boyfriend.” She drew Clint and labelled his card.

Jessica moved around the table to watch Skye draw over her shoulder.

“Then there’s Hunter.” Skye drew him as the card next to Bobbi. “He’s Bobbi’s husband. And I’ve got a Mommy.” She took extra time to make sure Mommy’s portrait was as accurate as possible. She didn’t bother drawing the baby. “And,” Skye finished her last card, “I got a Phil.”

“What’s a ‘Phil’?” Jessica asked. “Isn’t he your Daddy?”

“Not yet.” Skye said. “Maybe soon He’s cool.”

“Wow.” Jessica said. “Your family is pretty big.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Skye quickly drew another card. “Lulu. That’s Nat’s pet spider.”

“I like spiders.” Peter said.

Jessica pulled some paper off Miss Potts’ desk , too, except she wasn’t very careful and the pile spilled out over the floor. “Oopsie.” She didn’t clean it up.

Grant picked up the spilled paper and took a sheet for himself and one for Peter. Peter smiled at him shyly.

“Okay,” Jessica announced, she had already drawn on her paper, but the pictures were bit scribbly, Skye thought. Maybe she needed a few lessons from Bobbi. “This is my family. That’s me, that’s my Dad, and that’s my Mommy.” Jessica pointed to the picture of the woman.

“What’s on her back?” Grant asked.

“Her wings.” Jessica said matter-of-factly. “She’s in heaven now.”

Grant looked down at his own paper, and Skye watched as he began drawing his own cards. There were more than Skye had expected.

“That’s Pepper.” Grant said, pointing to his drawing of Miss Potts, “And that’s Tony.” Tony’s picture was pretty funny because there was a robot in it with him.

“Who’s the other people, Grant?” Jessica asked.

“That’s my Mom.” Grant said, and for some reason, Skye always expected him to sound sad when he spoke about his mom, but Grant never did. “I don’t know where she is now, but she’s still in my family. And this is my big brother.”

“You have a brother?” Jessica asked. “I never knew that.”

“I got two.” Grant said. He smiled. “Christian is my big brother, but I haven’t seen him in a long time. And Thomas is my little brother.” He had drawn wings on Thomas’ picture. “He’s in heaven.”

“That’s sad.” Skye said. For all the sad things that had happened in Skye’s life, she had never known someone who had died.

“S’okay.” Grant shrugged. “He’s happy in heaven.”

Skye wasn’t even sure if she believed there was such a place as heaven, but she didn’t want to upset Jessica and Grant, so she just nodded.

“Pete’s mom and dad are in heaven, too.” Jessica said. “Aren’t they, Peter?”

Peter nodded, but didn’t look up from where he was drawing his own set of cards. Skye could see the two where the people had wings. There were three more cards on his page.

“Who are the other people, Peter?” Skye asked.

“My Aunt and Uncle.” He said, “And that’s my best friend, M.J.”

“You can’t have a _friend_ in your family.” Jessica said.

“Yes you can.” Skye snapped. She thought to Natasha and Clint and how they had been best friends for a long time. “You can.”

Jessica shrugged and skipped off to the other end of the classroom where a group of kids were playing with the _Jenga_ bricks. Peter stood to follow her, carefully folding his drawing and putting it in his pocket. He waved to Skye and Grant before he left their table.

“Do you miss your brothers?” Skye found herself asking Grant.

He seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess so.” He said eventually. “I don’t really remember them much. Christian left when I was really little and Thomas died when he was baby. It’s been just me for a long time.”

“I don’t like babies.” Skye said.

“You don’t? I thought you did?”

“I _did_. I don’t like them anymore.”

“Since when?” Grant asked.

“Since yesterday.” She told him. “Do you remember when your Mom had Thomas, then?”

“A little. Why?”

Skye propped her head up on her elbow. “What happens when a lady has a baby?”

“Well,” Grant said, “she gets fat, and then a baby grows in her tummy, and then it comes out and that’s how it works.”

“How long does it take, though?”

Grant shrugged. “We could ask, Pepper.”

“Ask Pepper what?”

Skye and Grant jumped when Miss Potts appeared behind them. She smiled brightly and sat down in her wheelie desk chair.

“Skye wants to know how long it takes to have a baby.” Grant said.

Miss Potts raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Any reason for the sudden interest?”

Skye shook her head. “Absolutely none at all.”

“Okay, then.” Miss Potts smiled. “It takes nine months for the baby to grow in the woman’s tummy, and then it’s born.”

“That’s a long time.” Grant said. Skye agreed. “That must suck for the lady.”

“Why?” Skye frowned.

“Well she’s gotta carry a baby around under her shirt for almost a year.” He grimaced. “I wouldn’t wanna do that.”

Skye guessed he was right. Poor Mommy was going to be real tired, carrying a baby around all day, every day for nine months. Especially if she was sick, too.

“Miss Potts?” Skye asked.

“Yes, Skye?”

“What if the lady’s sick when she’s got a baby in her? Like if she’s puking and stuff?”

Miss Potts cocked her head to one side. “Did you see that on TV, Skye? Have you been watching the discovery channel, or something?”

“Yes.” Skye lied. “I saw it on TV. A lady was puking and she was pregnant.”

Grand screwed up his face.

“That’s perfectly normal.” Miss Potts told them.

“Really?” Skye asked.

“Yeah. It just happens for a little while when the woman is first pregnant.”

Skye felt a weight lift off her shoulders. “So she’s not sick, then. She won’t puke up the baby.” She said more to herself than anyone else.

“Who won’t?” Miss Potts questioned.

“The lady on the TV.” Skye lied again, smiling brightly. “That’s good.”

“So, the lady’s gotta have a baby in her belly for nine months, _and_ she’s puking the whole time, too?” Grant shuddered. “I’m so glad I’m a dude.”

Miss Potts chuckled. “Yeah, well, it’s all worth it because at the end you get your child to care for.”

Grant still grimaced. “Sounds like a raw deal to me. Anyway, not everyone needs to be pregnant to have a kid.” He smiled at Miss Potts. “You didn’t need to get fat and sad to get me.”

Miss Potts dropped her head into her hands, but her shoulders shook as she laughed. When she looked up at them, her cheeks were flushed and she had to wipe away a tear at the corner of her eye. She was smirking.

“Fat and sad, huh?” She shook her head. “I think we need to have a little talk about the bids and the bees when we get home.”

Skye had _no_ idea what she was talking about, and from the puzzled look on Grant’s face, he had no clue either. That made Skye feel a bit better about not knowing. Mostly, Skye was just incredibly relieved that her Mommy was okay, and that she _wasn’t_ sick.

“Does that mean that it’s the _baby_ making the lady puke?” Skye asked.

Miss Potts ruffled Grant’s hair and schooled her smile a little. She folded her fingers on her desk.

“Well, kind of. It’s not really the baby’s _fault_ …”

“But if the baby wasn’t in her tummy, then she wouldn’t be feeling sick?”

Miss Potts looked torn. “True, but-,”

Skye stopped listening after that. She all the information she needed to justify her dislike of the baby inside Mommy. Stupid baby. Skye wondered if this was how Phil felt about the dog.

“But how does the baby get _in_ there?” Grant was asking when Skye started paying attention again.

“Tony and I will explain everything to you when we get home, okay? Maybe we can have some ice cream, and talk about it then?” Miss Potts smiled.

“Okay.” Grant grinned. “I can’t wait.”

Miss Potts fished her cell phone out of her desk drawer. “I better give Tony a heads up.” She muttered.

…

Tony Stark was draped across Melinda’s couch in her office, fiddling with what looked like a Rubix cube but with more sides. He had been there for well over an hour, having simply walked in unannounced and made himself at home, apparently content to entertain himself with the various gadgets he had brought with him.

Melinda looked up from her computer, having sent what she hoped to God was her last email of the day. “Tony, not that I don’t love having you here, but _why_ are you here exactly.”

Tony Stark grinned at her. “Aww, Mels, you love having me here?”

She shook her head and took a swig of tea from her mug, now significantly more confident that she wasn’t going to throw up at any given moment. “Actually, I was just trying to be nice. You’re incredibly infuriating most of time. How Pepper puts up with you, I’ll never know.”

“That’s the power of love.” He smiled.

“But seriously, why are you here?”

Tony sat up properly on her couch. “I was bored.” He shrugged. “Wondered if you had anything I could do? Maybe reconfigure your security system, optimise your computers for peak performance,” he paused, “let me take apart a copy machine, anything really?”

Melinda rolled her eyes. “You need to find some way of entertaining yourself when work is slow, Stark.”

“I’m _trying,_ that’s what I’m trying to do.” Tony flicked the Rubix cube-thing up his arm and caught it with one hand. “It’s fine on evenings, and the weekends, because I’ve got my little boy to hang with, but I get lonely when he and Pep are gone all day.”

Mel felt for him, she really did. All that time before Skye had moved in, after Nat and Bobbi had flown the nest, had been a pretty lonely time for her, and she always had Phil. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Stark, alone in that huge house of his all day.

“Well, I don’t have any work for you.” She said, leaning back in her chair. Tony had known Bobbi and Hunter for years, he would be interested in knowing about their recent nuptials. “But I’ve got some news that might be of interest for you.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“What?” Mel felt the colour drain from her face. “No. _No_.”

He sniggered. “Calm down, I’m only teasing, Mels. God knows you’ve got enough kids to last you a lifetime already.”

“Yeah.”

“So go on, what’s this news?”

“Oh.” Melinda took another sip of tea in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “Bobbi and Hunter got married.”

Tony Stark speechless was a rare thing, but apparently, this was the news to cause it. He gaped at her.

“No. Freaking. Way.”

“My reaction was not too far from that.” She muttered.

“Wait,” Tony seemed to recover from his shock, “you didn’t know?”

“Nope. They kept it totally secret.”

He smiled. “Good on them. That’s how you do it. None of this fancy, ornate crap, just two people who love each other and a dose of spontaneity.”

“You know, Tony, you’re the only person to make me feel like them getting secretly married is actually a positive thing.” Melinda was surprised by his sentiment.

“People forget that marriage isn’t about parties, or dresses, or food, or even, much to your chagrin, your family. Marriage is about the _people getting married_ , and Bobbi and Hunter, well, apparently they realised that.”

“Yeah,” Mel mused, “I guess they did.”

Tony’s phone made a weird little chime and he glanced down at the screen with a smirk. The smirk quickly transformed into a look of sheer horror and he looked back up to Mel with a contorted expression.

“You’ve got kids, how do you have the sex talk with an almost ten year old without scaring him for life?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Mel smiled.

“Pep says we need to have the ‘talk’ with Grant.” Tony glanced at his phone again. “Apparently he’s had lots of questions about pregnancy or something.” He was tapping away at the screen even as he spoke to Melinda.

She tapped her nails against her mug. “Pregnancy questions, huh?”

The phone made another chime. “You might want to have a talk with your kid, too because she’s the one instigating he conversation according to Pep.”

Melinda put a discreet hand on her stomach. “Great. I’ll be sure to talk with her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave a review. It makes my day, if not week, month, year...you get the point- I enjoy reading them. :D  
> xxx


	17. Skye's Anxious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I left the memory stick this was on at my Granddad's house and I've only been able to get it today!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, guys, and check out my new fic [Assumptions](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4069021)!

“We’re running out of people to ask, Nat.” Clint sighed, slouching against the playground fence.

The dog’s tail wagged happily as he watched the toddlers playing in the sand through the metal bars. He pawed at the fence and whined. Natasha got down on her knees and hugged him tightly, not caring about the little puddle of water she was resting in.

“I don’t want to have to send him to strangers, Clint.” She said. The dog looked away from the children long enough to lick her face. She kissed his muzzle. “If he can’t be with us, then he _has_ to be with someone we at least know and trust.”

They had been out looking for someone to take in the dog all morning, having woken up at the crack of dawn to begin their quest. Clint had called around all of their friends from school still in the area, but they were college students, and even their high school friends still at home couldn’t commit to caring for a dog. Natasha had called practically everyone else they knew; Maria, Steve, Trip…she had even called Bobbi and Hunter’s friend, Izzy, who she had only met a few times, to see if she knew anyone. She didn’t.

Clint wrapped an arm around her when she stood back up, leaving the dog to his observations of the children. “I think we need to go and see Phil and Mel.” He said. “Maybe they know someone who can take him.”

“But he’s _ours_.” Nat whined. It’s what she had been saying all morning, hoping by some miracle an idea would occur to her and she and Clint would be free to keep him.

“Come on, baby.” Clint kissed her temple. “We’ll walk over to the gym, see your Mom and Dad.” He tugged on the dog’s leash. “Come on, Dave.” Clint grimaced. “Nope. Still not a Dave.”

…

Bobbi sat outside of the Real Estate offices a few miles from her parents’ house, fiddling with her phone and waiting on Hunter. They had woken up early, eaten breakfast, and borrowed one of the cars to begin house-hunting and job-searching for Hunter. They were already many hours and many realtors into the day, and so far on both the house and the job, it wasn’t going well.

This time, Bobbi had opted to remain outside while Hunter explored their options. Seeing just how much they _couldn’t_ afford was getting her down. Bobbi much preferred to sit on the bench outside and watch the expensive cars drive by, making up stories for the people inside of them, than to listen to another arrogant guy in a bad suit tell them their financial state was laughable.

She was just imagining that the woman in the overly large sunglasses driving the white Range Rover was going to pick up her child from their private school because they had shot someone with a dart gun, when her phone began ringing obnoxiously, ripping Bobbi from her entertainment.

“Hello?” She answered cautiously, not recognising the number on the screen.

_“Bobbi? It’s me, Iz.”_

“Oh.” Bobbi smiled. “Hey, you name didn’t come up on my phone.”

_“New number.”_ Izzy said apologetically. _“Well, not really, this is just my new work phone, you can still call me at my cell.”_

Bobbi arched an eyebrow. “Work phone? I thought you weren’t starting work for another two weeks?”

_“I’m not, and neither are you.”_ Izzy laughed. _“But I’m trying to get prepared.”_

“That sounds nothing like you.”

_“Vic’s been on my back about getting organised.”_ She admitted.

“Ah, sounds more accurate.” Bobbi said.

_“She says I need to be more organised now that I’ll have my very own employee.”_ She laughed loudly. _“Just how excited are you to be working for me?”_

“Incredibly.” Bobbi grinned.

And she was telling the truth. Izzy had been the only reason she had managed to actually get through her Masters degree. It had turned out to be a hell of a lot harder than Bobbi had first anticipated, and what with having work, school, and Hunter to juggle, she had very nearly found herself dropping out. If it hadn’t been for Izzy offering her help and tuition to Bobbi for free, there would have been no way Bobbi could have ever hoped to graduate. She was eternally grateful to Isabelle Hartley, and aside from all the other things she had done for Bobbi, the woman was practically unparalleled in how well she could control Hunter. Bobbi had learned a lot from Izzy.

“As much as I appreciate the chat,” Bobbi said, “is there any particular reason you called me?”

_“The dog.”_ Izzy said, and Bobbi had to replay her voice in her head just to make sure she had heard her correctly. Even then, she felt the need to clarify.

“The dog?”

_“Yes.”_

“What dog?”

_“Clint and Natasha’s dog.”_

Bobbi frowned. “How the hell did you hear about that? It only happened yesterday.”

Izzy chuckled on the other end of the line. _“Your dear baby sister called me this morning and asked if I knew anyone who would be willing to take care of her dog. She was adamant it had to be someone I knew well, someone I knew for sure was a good dog owner.”_

Bobbi sighed. “They’ve been pretty upset about the whole thing. She texted me this morning to tell me they were out trying to find a home for it.”

_“I just wanted to let you know she called me.”_ Izzy said. _“She sounded a little distressed. I felt bad telling her I didn’t know anyone who could take it.”_

“I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Bobbi said. She _hoped_ Nat would be fine. When Natasha got upset, she tended to stay that way for a while. “I’m sure she understands.”

_“Okay. Just tell her I_ am _sorry. Vic and I just don’t have the time for a dog, at least not at the minute.”_

“Don’t worry about it, Iz.”

Izzy made a noise of acknowledgement, and the line went quiet for a few seconds. _“So,”_ Izzy said eventually, _“how have you been, Bobbi? Found a place to live?”_

Bobbi laughed humourlessly. “Trying to.”

_“Trying?”_

“You know how it can be, looking for places to live. My parents are letting us stay in their house for as long as we need.” She smiled. “They’ve been really good about the whole thing.”

_“They’re letting Hunter stay too?”_

“Yeah.”

_“That’s nice of them. I honestly thought they hated him.”_ Izzy laughed. _“If I was your parents, I’d hate him.”_

“Yeah? Well, they have a good reason not to.” Bobbi mumbled. She twisted the rings on her finger.

_“Oh yeah?”_

Bobbi bit the bullet. “Hunter and I got married.”

The line was silent.

“Izzy?”

_“Sorry, I’m still here. I was just deciding if I was shocked or if I actually expected this.”_ Izzy blew out a breath. _“Honestly, I think I saw it coming. Congrats.”_

“Thanks.” Bobbi twisted her rings again. “You’re not mad, right?”

_“Of course, not. Honey, why would I be mad?”_ Izzy paused. _“Were your family mad?”_

“Nat wasn’t.” Bobbi said quietly. “Dad was mad, but he’s over it. He’s the one who said we could stay there with them.” She sighed. “My Mom, I’m not sure. I think she’s mad, but I haven’t talked with her properly yet. We had a fight.”

_“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s probably just a bit surprised.”_

“Maybe.”

Bobbi felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. Hunter hopped over the back of the bench and sat down next to her, kissing her cheek and pressing his nose into her neck. He wrapped both arms around her, almost pinning them to her sides.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Listen, Iz, I have to go.”

“Hi, Izzy.” Hunter mumbled into Bobbi’s neck.

She ran her fingers through his hair with her free hand. “Hunter says ‘Hi’.”

Izzy sniggered. _“Tell him I said ‘fuck off’.”_

“Izzy says ‘Fuck off’.” She informed her husband.

“So impolite.” He grinned.

“Izzy, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

_“Okay, honey. See you both in a couple of weeks. Oh, and tell Natasha I hope she finds a home for her dog.”_

“Will do. Bye.”

_“Bye, Bobbi.”_

Hunter kissed her cheek again. “What’d Iz want, then?”

She turned her head to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Nat called her about the dog.”

“Jesus.” Hunter breathed, siting up. “Her and Clint are really scraping the barrel aren’t they? No luck with your mates from school?”

Bobbi shrugged. “Apparently not. But most people either of us knew from school don’t even live around here any more.”

“It’s a bloody shame your dad’s scared of dogs.” Hunter said. “He’s a cute little bugger. The dog….not your dad.”

“Dad’s not scared of dogs.”

Hunter lifted his head. “What?”

Bobbi smiled. “He doesn’t like them, but he’s not scared.” She cocked her head to one side in thought. “Not sure why he doesn’t like them.”

Hunter grinned. “It’s because he’s fucking terrified of them, love.”

“He’s not.”

“He _is._ ” Hunter insisted. “Why else would he hate them so much? I mean, he likes other animals. He doesn’t even mind your sister’s eight-legged freak.”

“Huh.” Bobbi said, considering Hunter’s point. “Maybe he is.”

“You know I’m right.”

Bobbi shrugged. “So, any luck in there?” She jabbed a thumb in the direction of the real estate offices.

Lance grunted. “Too expensive.”

“Hm.” She’d expected as much.

“They had jobs going though.” Lance said with a face like thunder. “But _apparently_ I’m not legally qualified to sell houses.”

Bobbi smirked. “Hunter, you’re _not_ legally qualified to sell houses.”

“Well isn’t that just a pile of wank?” He muttered, pouting.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry Teacup, you’ll find a job somewhere.” Bobbi guided his head to her chest and ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ll love you even if you never work another day for the rest of your life.”

“Really?” Hunter murmured.

“Really.” Bobbi kissed his head. “However, I would prefer it if you found at job at some point so we don’t end up destitute.”

He chuckled. “Duly noted, love.”

It was then Bobbi’s phone began buzzing with a text. Hunter fished it out of her pocket and held it in front of her face.

“Anyone interesting?” He asked.

Bobbi glanced at the screen. “My Dad. We’re being summoned.” She opened the message. “He wants us to pick up Skye from school on our way over. Oh, hey. We could see Pepper while we’re there. I miss hanging out with her.”

Lance cuddled into her, pressing his face into her neck. “No. Let’s just stay here forever.”

She flicked his ear. “On this bench?”

“Yes.” Lance said. “We’ll live out the rest of our lives on this bench, outside of this shitty estate agents. You and me.”

“Sounds lovely.” Bobbi smirked. “Just what I used to dream about when I was a little girl.”

“Right here, on this bench, is where we’ll make our life. This is where we’ll bring up our children.”

Bobbi moved enough that Lance was forced to sit up again. She stared at him for a second, trying to work out whether even a small percentage of what he was saying was true. She decided just to ask.

“We’re gonna have kids?” She breached the subject with an uncharacteristic hesitancy.

Hunter, however, seemed perfectly at ease with the question. “Yeah.” He said, pulling his jacket up higher around her shoulders. The rain from that morning had stopped but there was still a chill in the breeze. “And we’ll raise them on this bench.”

“Hunter?” Bobbi asked, watching him struggle with his coat’s zip. He grunted a pathetic response, frowning at his uncooperative jacket. “Hunter?” Bobbi asked with more insistence, and Hunter looked up.

“Yes, my darlin’?”

“Lance, were you being serious?”

His face softened. “I promise we won’t really have to live on a bench for the rest of our lives.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not _that,_ idiot. I meant about us having kids.”

“Oh.” Lance smiled at her widely. “Yeah. Course I was. We’d be brilliant parents.”

“Yeah?” Bobbi smiled, arms going around his neck.

Lance kissed her. “Well, I mean, we’d be ‘not terrible’ parents. You know, as a team.”

“As a team?”

“ _You’d_ be a brilliant Mum, and I’d be one of them Dads that can’t parent for shit, but who drives the kids to football every Saturday and takes them to all their swimming lessons.” Lance grinned. “Together, we’d be really ‘not terrible’.”

It took a passing police car’s siren to remind Bobbi that she was sitting on a bench in the middle of the street, practically weeping over the fact that her husband had thought about them one day having children. She coughed and attempted to subtly wipe her eyes.

“You okay, love?” Hunter took her hand and pulled it away from her face. “Bob, are you crying?”

“No, no.” She laughed. “Maybe a little.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” She said, and stood up. “Now come on, let’s go pick up my baby sister.” Bobbi began walking down the street.

Hunter followed her, jogging to keep up. “I know I’m not crying, but I promise I love you, too.”

Bobbi grabbed his hand and swung their joined hands between them. “Come on, Teacup. I’ll make you cry one of these days.”

He kissed her cheek. “I don’t doubt it, darlin’.”

…

“Okay, class.” Miss Potts said. “I want you to complete the worksheets that Jessica is bringing around. When you finish, you can have free time.”

Jessica wasn’t very good at handing out worksheets, Skye thought. Maybe it was because she was so friendly, but after every few pieces of paper she delivered, Jessica stopped to talk to one of the students. Eventually she made it to the table Skye shared with Grant, and placed a sheet in front of Skye, perching herself on the edge of the table.

“This looks easy.” She said, handing another of the worksheets to Grant. “It’s awesome when Miss Potts gives us these to do ‘cause they only take like five minutes and she lets us have free time after we’re done.”

“Jessica Drew.” Miss Potts said. Her arms were folded and she had one eyebrow arched up.

Jessica turned around on the table and smiled at the teacher. “Yes?” She sat on Skye’s worksheet, making it wrinkle and crease.

“Jessica, stop chatting and pass around the worksheets, please.” Miss Potts said.

“Yes, Miss Potts.” Jessica slid off the table, and Skye had to grab her worksheet before it fell off with her.

“Thank you, Jessica.” Miss Potts said, and went back to writing something about ‘counting in fours’ on the board.

“Sorry.” Jessica grinned at Skye and tried to smooth her sheet of paper for her, completely unaffected at having been reprimanded by their teacher. “Here.” She took the creased paper from Skye and handed her a new sheet from the top of the pile, continuing to make her way around the classroom.

Grant nudged Skye with her elbow. “You seen this?” He pointed at the sheet. “I dunno what Jess thinks is easy, but this ain’t it.”

“I don’t know how to do fractions.” Skye said, frowning at the sheet. “Do you?”

Grant shrugged. “Kind of. Pepper’s been helping me, and Tony’s super good at math. He’s been helping, too.”

Skye continued to frown at her paper, hoping somehow the equations would begin to make sense. “So you can help me?”

“Not really, Skye. I said Tony and Pepper were helping, not that I could do it. And even if I can, I don’t think I can teach you how.” He smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

“S’okay.” Skye shrugged, and went back to glaring at her paper.

Miss Potts walked over and crouched by their table. “How are we doing?” She asked kindly.

Grand was attempting to complete the first of the questions. “Okay…I think.”

“Try your best.” Miss Potts said. “That’s all I want.”

He smiled at her. “I can do that.”

“Good boy. How about you, Skye?” She asked.

In her old schools, Skye didn’t like asking for help. Her last teacher hadn’t taken too kindly to her not knowing what to do in lessons, so Skye had stopped asking and had just stayed quiet. But Miss Potts wasn’t like that, she always wanted to help.

“I can’t do it.” Skye said, sliding the paper over to her teacher.

Miss Potts smiled. “Have you tried?”

“Yes.” Skye lied.

“Oh, really? Because I can’t help but notice you haven’t even written your name on the paper.”

Skye blushed and scribbled her name sloppily on the top of the paper. “Okay, now I can’t do it.”

“Skye.” Miss Potts said. “I know sometimes things seem difficult, but the key is to _try_.”

The numbers made no sense. Skye could try as much as she liked, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Jessica seemed to be able to the work in her sleep, but to Skye it was like reading something in a different language. She wondered if this was how Natasha had felt when first attending school all those years ago. It was probably way worse for Nat, now Skye thought about it. At least she spoke the same language as her teacher.

“My sister used to not be able to speak English, you know.” Skye said, hoping to divert the topic of conversation to anything other than math.

“I do know.” Miss Potts said. “I can remember when Natasha only spoke Russian.”

Skye looked up. “You can?”

“Yeah. I used to work in Melinda and Phil’s gym back then.”

“Nat can speak English now, though. She’s really smart.” Skye said proudly. “So is Bobbi. She went to college _twice._ Because she _wanted_ to.”

Miss Potts laughed. “Oh I know. They’re both very clever.” She picked up Skye’s worksheet. “And so are you.”

“M’not.” Skye muttered. Everyone else in the class seemed to at least know _something_ about what they were doing. Skye had no clue. “M’too stupid for this.”

“Hey.” Miss Potts said in a voice that sounded closer to mad than Skye had ever heard her. “We do not talk about ourselves in that way.” She stood up. “You just need a little more help. Come on over here.”

Skye got out of her seat and followed her teacher over to her desk, sitting down on the chair Miss Potts pulled out for her.

“So, Skye.” Miss Potts said. “How are you settling in?”

Skye looked over at her teacher. “I thought we were doing math.”

“We were.” Miss Potts chuckled. “And we’re going to continue to, but I just wanted to know how you were feeling.”

“Feeling?” Skye asked.

“Yes.”

It was a difficult question because Skye had a lot of feelings all the time, and sometimes she couldn’t always work out exactly what it was she was feeling. Skye closed her eyes, and tried to concentrate of her feelings. The sound of the class was getting louder now that some of the other children had apparently finished, or were close to finishing, their work. Skye heard Miss Potts shush some of them, and the sound went down to a murmur.

_What was she feeling?_

Skye could hear Jessica laughing somewhere over the other side of the room. She couldn’t pick out what she was saying, but her laugh was distinctive enough for Skye to recognise with her eyes closed.

“Skye?” Miss Potts said.

“Happy.”

“Sorry?”

Skye opened her eyes and looked over at Miss Potts. “I’m feeling happy.”

Her teacher smiled. “That’s wonderful.”

“Mostly happy. I think.” Skye squeezed her eyes shut and thought of her Mommy. “I’m happy.” She thought about her sisters, and Clint and Hunter and Phil. And then she thought about the baby. That feeling was harder to describe. “Is there a word that means worried? The kind of worry where when you think about something your tummy hurts?”

When Skye opened her eyes, Miss Potts had a strange look on her face. She wasn’t frowning exactly, but she didn’t look happy either. It was a look Skye had seen on Bobbi’s face, when she had been worried about Skye the night before. Maybe there wasn’t another word for it. Maybe it was just ‘worried’.

“You know the feeling?” Skye said.

Miss Potts nodded. “I think I do. A bit like being worried, and nervous.”

“Yes.” Skye answered quickly. “Yes. Like that.”

“Anxious?” Miss Potts supplied.

Skye rolled the word around in her head a few times. _Anxious. Anxious. Anxious._ It was familiar. As of she had heard the word before, but never made the effort to find out what I meant.

“Sounds kinda right.” Skye smiled. “Sometimes I feel anxious.”

Miss Potts put her hand on Skye’s shoulder. “Why do you think you feel like that, Skye?”

She was only trying to be kind. Skye tried to tell herself that. Asking about feeling worried, had probably frightened Miss Potts. Grown ups tended to get concerned about things like that. But Skye could remember being asked the same question somewhere else. Somewhere she didn’t like thinking about.

_Why do you think you feel like that?_

Skye had heard that question before.

_Why do you think you feel like that?_

She didn’t like the question. It was stupid.

_Why do you think you feel like that?_

Skye had laughed in the doctor’s face when he’d asked that. Surely he understood that if Skye _knew_ why she felt the way the she did, the nuns wouldn’t have bothered to send her to a psychologist twice a week. She Miss Macy and her abrupt end at that foster home to thank for her dreaded trips to ‘ _Doctor Carson: Specialised Child Psychologist’_. That’s what it said on his door. Skye had sat outside of it enough that she had been able to eventually read even the long words etched on his plain and boring door sign. Not like the awesome one Bobbi had made for her bedroom. Plus, Doctor Carson liked to introduce himself as ‘ _Doctor Carson: Specialised Child Psychologist’,_ every time she went to one of her sessions. If nothing else had been gained from the torturous sessions, Skye now knew that ‘psychologist’ had a silent ‘p’ at the beginning of it.

Attending one, two-hour session with Doctor Carson, twice a week, had been an arrangement that had lasted less than four of the twelve prescribed weeks, and had ended with the psychologist sending her away with a envelope that she was meant to give to Sister Margaret. Skye had opened it herself on the way home. Most of the stuff on the papers inside had been boring, but general things about Skye that she heard often enough from her social worker. One of the pages, however, the one at the back, had said something that Skye wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forget.

Reading was hard. Many of the words on the sheets in the envelope had been too long for Skye to even attempt to decipher, and she’d skipped over most of them. But she could read that last page perfectly fine. Big, bold letters, underlined by the computer, but then circled by hand with a red pen.

_Mary Sue is a lost cause._

Skye knew just fine what that meant, but Sister Margaret had taken the opened envelope from her, glanced through the pages, and pointed out that last one to her. “Well,” Sister Margaret had said, “we all knew that already, didn’t we?”

_Lost cause_.

No point in making the effort.

“Skye?” Miss Potts said, breaking her from her little pit of self-reflection. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” Skye said.

She thought back to that day. _Lost cause._

Maybe she _was_ a lost cause, at least back then. But not anymore. Skye wasn’t that person anymore. She wasn’t Mary Sue Poots, the orphan from St. Agnes’ who was always bad and was a ‘lost cause’. Now, she was Skye. And Skye had friends, a _best_ friend. Skye had sisters. Skye had Phil. And Skye had a Mommy. And even though thinking about the baby made her _anxious_ (Skye was pleased she could put a name to the feeling), she knew her Mommy loved her. Skye was fairly sure Mommy didn’t think she was a lost cause.

Miss Potts still looked a little concerned, so Skye grinned brightly at her.

“I’m okay, Miss Potts.” Skye said. “I can’t really tell you why I’m _anxious,_ but it’s nothing bad.” She grimaced. “Well, it is kinda bad, but not _bad_ bad.” Skye attempted to clarify. She decided to cut to the chase. “I’m not being abused. Don’t worry.”

“I see.” Miss Potts just looked confused now. “Are you _sure_ everything is okay? How is it at home? Are you enjoying living with Melinda and Phil.”

Skye nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. It’s great. Bobbi and Hunter are staying with us now.”

“They are?” Miss Potts asked. She was smiling a little now.

“They got married.” Skye grinned. She supposed now that everyone in their family knew, it wasn’t really a secret anymore.

Miss Potts nodded. “Oh. They did?” She pushed the fractions worksheet back in front of Skye. “Good for them.”

“Yeah.” Skye said. “You want to hear what Hunter did when Mommy shouted at him? It was really funny.”

“I’m sure that I would love to, Skye, but right now, we’re learning about fractions.”

Skye huffed. Miss Potts was a really nice teacher, but that was the thing about teachers, they usually thought it was more important to teach than have fun. So, just because Skye liked Miss Potts, she stopped gushing about her family, and made the effort to concentrate on her fractions.

Twenty minutes, and two tantrum near-misses later, Skye had correctly answered twelve of the fifteen questions on her worksheet, and she felt infinitely proud of herself when Miss Potts said she deserved a special sticker for her efforts. She picked the one with a friendly looking spider on, because it looked a little like Charlotte, and stuck it right in the centre of her t-shirt.

Skye grinned, skipping back over to her table with Grant, clutching her worksheet. Grant Ward high-fived her when she sat down and gave her spider sticker an appreciative flick.

Suck it, Sister Margaret. Skye Coulson was _not_ a ‘lost cause’.

…

Phil had spent the last couple of hours organizing the paperwork for the series of loans he and Melinda were planning on giving to Bobbi and Hunter. Giving his daughter some money here and there, although sounding simple enough, seemed actually to be a real pain in the neck, _literally_ , because Phil had been sitting weirdly while doing the paperwork.

Melinda had given it the once over, but not really having the expertise in the area, had dragged Tony Stark from her office, into Phil’s, and traded his weird Rubix cube for the paperwork. For all that Tony Stark sometimes acted like a child, he was damn good with finances.

“Yeah.” Tony said, dropping the files onto Phil’s desk. “All in order. All legal.”

“Great.” Phil smiled. “Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem.” Stark took his toy back from Mel, and sat next to her on Phil’s couch. “So,” he said, not looking up from the toy, “how’s things going with the kid?”

“Skye’s doing well. I’ve asked Bobbi and Hunter to pick her up from school on their way over.” Phil said, smiling at Melinda.

“Great.” She said, and propped her feet up on the coffee table.

Phil frowned. “I hope Skye’s okay. She was acting weird this morning.”

Tony looked up. “Oh?”

Melinda shook her head. “She’s fine, Tony. Phil just worries.”

“Yeah.” Tony said. “Kids can be weird. Well, if it makes you feel any better, Pepper says she’s doing really well in school. Nice kid from what she’s told me. And Grant, well, he thinks she’s awesome.” Tony laughed. “Agent Skye and Agent Ward are gonna take the world.”

Phil grinned. “I’m just glad she’s making friends. I worry about her settling in.”

Stark elbowed Melinda. “From what I’ve heard, you two have more to be worried about, huh?” He smirked at Phil. “What with your oldest getting hitched.”

Melinda nodded. “And the dream team getting a dog.”

Tony glanced at her. “What?”

The door to Phil’s office opened without anyone knocking, and a scruffy looking blonde dog with one eye, bounded into the room, followed by a sheepish Clint. Phil pushed his seat as far back to the wall as he could as the dog sniffed around his ankles. The animal dragged his leash along behind him, doing a turn of the room, before deciding the couch looked far too comfortable to pass up, and jumping up next to Tony.

Phil pulled his desk back, effectively trapping him against the wall, but simultaneously protecting him from the dog he was totally _not_ terrified of.

Melinda rolled her eyes and took her feet off the table. “No dogs on the couch.”

The dog gave a little ‘ruff’ of acknowledgment but refused to move.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know you understand me.”

It ‘ruffed’ again.

The billionaire raised an eyebrow at Clint, as Natasha walked through the door.

“Sorry.” Clint said. He watched as the dog began licking Tony’s hand.

“Who are you apologising to?” Melinda asked.

Clint looked at Nat. She shrugged.

“I’m not sure.” He said. “Everyone?” Clint fiddled with his hearing aid. “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, Mel. I didn’t mean it.”

“Me either.” Natasha said, stepping forward. She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”

Melinda stood up, leaving Tony and the dog on the couch, and opening her arms. Natasha rushed forward to hug her without hesitation. Clint appeared to be a little more hesitant, but he joined in the hug, wrapping both arms around Natasha and Melinda.

“I’m so sorry, Mama.” Natasha said quietly.

“I know.” Melinda kissed her cheek. “I forgive you, Bubba.” She smiled at Clint. “And you. You’re forgiven.”

Clint frowned. “I didn’t mean what I said. You’re the best Mom ever, Mel.”

Melinda gave both kids one more squeeze and let them go. “I love you both very much.” She smiled. “Now, how’s doggy house hunting going?”

Natasha sat herself down next to Tony and the dog, who had wormed his way onto the billionaire’s lap and was happily gnawing on the elaborate Rubix cube toy.

“We tried really hard.” Nat said.

“ _Really_ hard.” Clint agreed, perching on the edge of Phil’s desk. “But we can’t find anywhere for him.”

Phil poked Clint in the back with his pen. “Nowhere?”

“Nowhere.” Clint said sadly. “We even called Izzy.”

Melinda sat on the arm of the couch and ran her fingers through Natasha’s red hair. “We can’t keep him, honey.”

“I know.” Nat said. “I know.”

Tony ruffled the fur on either side of the dog’s face. “Aww, you kids obviously aren’t looking hard enough.” He grinned at the dog. “Who wouldn’t this little guy? Huh, one-eyed pirate dog? Who wouldn’t want you?”

Phil smirked. “You making friends, Stark?”

Tony didn’t look away from the dog. “You’re a good little pirate puppy, a good little one eyed puppy. Yes. Yes, you are.” The dog licked his chin and Stark laughed. “So you agree?”

Phil watched as Natasha began signing to Clint. He picked up ‘dog’ and ‘yes’ and something Phil thought might have been ‘idiot’ but he couldn’t be certain. Clint sniggered at something Natasha signed, then nodded.

“Hey, Tony?” Natasha said.

“Hm?” Tony glanced over at her.

Natasha smiled. “You, um, you have a lot of room, right? A big yard and stuff?”

“And you’ve got a kid now.” Clint added. “Does your little boy like dogs?”

Tony chuckled. “Are you trying to convince me to take your dog?”

“Dad won’t let us keep him at home.” Nat said.

Clint turned on the desk to smirk at Phil. “He’s scared of dogs.”

Phil scoffed. “I am not.”

“Pet him, then.” Clint dared. “Go on, pet him.”

Phil eyed the dog with what he felt was perfectly adequate caution. Tony may have been letting the animal lick his face, but Phil would prefer to keep that mouth full of teeth as far away from his throat as he could, thank you very much.

“No thank you.” Phil said.

“Cause your scared.” Clint sang.

“Am not.” Phil muttered.

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am-,”

“Phil.” Melinda cut him off. “You’re forty-three. Stop.”

“Am not scared.” He muttered under his breath, and Melinda shot him a look. “Sorry.”

“Please, Tony.” Natasha was saying when Phil began paying attention again. “Please, he needs a home.”

Stark was smiling, letting the dog chew on the toy again. “He is pretty cute.”

Clint jumped off the desk. “And he can run around in your huge yard.”

Natasha hopped up, too. “And he’s really good with kids. Your little boy will love him.”

“And he knows how to fetch.”

“And how to poop outside.” Nat added.

“And how to bark at birds.” Clint said.

Tony cocked his head at him.

“Well,” Clint shrugged, “he can stop the birds pooping on your cars.”

“Listen, guys.” Tony said, moving the dog off his lap and standing up. “I’d have to speak with Pepper first, but-,”

“You’ll take him?” Natasha bounced from foot to foot.

Stark put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “Providing Pepper agrees…and I’m sure she will…” He looked from Natasha to Clint and back again. “I’d be happy to have him.”

Nat nearly knocked Tony off his feat when she hugged him, pulling back almost as quickly with a little pink blush dusting her cheeks. Clint smirked at her and she thumped him in the arm.

“Thank you for taking him, Tony.” She said, leaning into Clint’s side.

“Yeah.” Clint added. “Thanks.” He slapped his knees and the dog jumped off the couch. “Hear that, buddy? You’re gonna live with a millionaire!”

“ _Billion_ aire.” Tony scoffed. “And you guys can come visit any time.” The dog jumped up at Tony, putting his paws on his chest and wagging his tail. “If I’m going to be paying for this mutt’s food, shouldn’t I at least know his name?”

“Doesn’t have one.” Clint shrugged, smiling at the happy dog.

Natasha wrapped both arms around Clint. “Clint’s been calling him ‘Dave’.”

Tony grimaced.

“Yeah,” Clint sighed, “I didn’t think it fitted either.

Phil observed the scene from his desk chair, happy to keep the large expanse of furniture between him and the fluffy demon. “Name or no name, going from being a pound dog on death row to living the life of luxury with Stark in less than two days…I’ll tell you what that dog is, it’s freaking lucky.”

Stark clapped once. “’Lucky’ it is.”

“Huh?” Phil said dumbly.

“Lucky.” Stark said again. “Thanks for the name, Phil. Suits him.”

“It really does.” Melinda interjected. “He looks like a ‘Lucky’.”

Clint grinned. “I like it.”

“Me too.” Nat said. “Lucky. It’s nice.”

Phil turned to Melinda. “Did I just name that dog?”

She smiled and shrugged.

Tony glanced at his watch, which Phil noted, appeared to have a distinct lack of hands and one too many LCD screens than Phil felt entirely necessary for a watch.

“Listen, kids.” Tony said. “School’s out in a couple of minutes. Let me call Pepper, get everything sorted, and then you can all come over while we get Lucky here situated in his new house.”

“Awesome.” Clint grinned. “Party at Stark’s.”

“No party.” Mel said, and Tony and Clint groaned. “It’s a school night.” She explained.

“Not for _us_.” Clint protested.

Mel rolled her eyes. “But it is for your little sister.” She eyed Tony. “And Pepper, _and_ your son.”

“Fine.” Tony said. “A _gathering_ at my house. A gathering of friends and family that will end at a reasonable time and involve no alcohol.”

Clint and Natasha shared equal looks of disappointment.

“I don’t know what you two are so sad about.” Phil said to the kids. “You wouldn’t be getting any of the booze anyway.”

“But-,” Clint tried.

Phil pointed to him. “One year!” He did the same to Tasha. “ _Two_ years!”

Nat stared at him blankly. “What?”

“Legal drinking ages are in place for a reason. I will not have my children breaking any laws. Not today.” Phil even put his foot down for emphasis, only to remember his feet were concealed by the dog-repelling desk.

Clint smirked. “So,” he dragged out the word, “tomorrow we can break laws?”

“Be quiet, Clinton.” Melinda said.

“Hey, Pep.” Tony said, holding his phone to his ear. He picked up Lucky’s leash and left the room, voice carrying behind him. “You love animals, right, Pepper?” He paused, still walking down the hallway. “Okay, great, well…” Stark’s voice faded as Phil’s office door closed.

Clint turned to address the room, hands on his hips. “That went shockingly well.”

Natasha nodded in agreement.

“If Tony Stark is anything,” Phil said, “it’s _shocking_.” He left the sanctuary of his desk now that the dog was gone.

“It’s okay, now.” Nat grinned. “The mean doggy can’t get you anymore, Dad.”

Phil narrowed his eyes at her and crossed the room to seek out some comfort in the form of his beautiful and sympathetic wife. Melinda held him in her arms and kissed him gently.

“It’s okay.” Mel said, stroking his cheek. “That scary puppy is all gone.”

Phil folded his arms across his chest and glared at the snickering kids. He turned to his wife. “I hate all of you.”

She kissed him again. “I’ll protect you.” Mel stepped in front of him and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting them on her belly. “I love you.”

He rested his head on Melinda’s shoulder. “I am not scared of dogs.”

Tony poked his head around the door. “Pep’s all for it.” He grinned. “Lucky Stark, welcome to the family.” Stark opened the door further for Lucky, and the dog hastily bounded into the room.

Phil yelped and stumbled back onto the couch, almost pulling Mel with him, when the dog tried to jump up at him. Melinda grabbed Lucky’s collar and guided him away from her husband.

“Sure, Phil.” She smirked. “Totally not scared of dogs.”

He pouted. “You were meant to be protecting me.”

…

By the time school was over and Miss Potts had led the class outside to the playground, ready to be picked up, it had stopped raining and despite the chilly breeze, the sun was still hot on their backs.

“How come it wasn’t like this at recess?” Grant grumbled. “We could have played spies, instead of that stupid card game.”

“We can still play tomorrow?” Skye suggested, sitting down on the stone steps outside of the school. “Phil said he’d read me a new Captain America story tonight. We can have the story be our game tomorrow.”

Grant Ward smiled and jumped down the steps. He always did things like that: jumped from anything that could be jumped from and climbed anything that could possibly be climbed. It was fun being with Grant Ward because Skye liked doing those things, too.

He aimed his finger gun at the basketball hoop they’d spent much of last week pretending was an evil robot called ‘Ultron’.

“We’ll get _all_ the bad guys.” Agent Ward said. “’Cause we don’t let no one get away from us. Huh, Agent Skye?”

She secured her backpack on her back and hopped down the stairs after Ward. “Bad guys don’t stand a chance!” She laughed.

Someone whistled loudly near Skye, and she whipped around to aim her ‘gun’ at them. Hunter grinned back at her, holding up both hands in surrender and dropping to his knees.

“I’m innocent!” He said. “Please, don’t shoot, Skye.”

“That’s _Agent_ Skye to you, sir.” Skye told him.

Lance pretended to be scared, doing a funny face that made Skye giggle, even though Agent Skye was trying to be serious.

“Please, Agent Skye.” Hunter begged. “I have a wife, and no children. Please don’t kill me.”

Skye pretended to think about it, stepping close enough to Lance that she could touch his head with her finger gun. “Hmm.” She hummed. “Okay, you’re innocent.” She decided, and wrapped both arms around his neck instead.

Hunter laughed and stood up with Skye hanging on like a monkey. “You judged me wrong, Agent Skye!” He said in a funny accent. “I am zee evil Count Von Bad-Guy.” He lifted her onto his hip. “And I am zee greatezt teekle torturer in all of zee world. Prepare to be teekled.”

Lance began relentlessly tickling Skye’s sides, not even stopping when she squealed. He bent over, tipping her upside down, and Skye saw Agent Ward watching them, laughing.

“Help me, Agent Ward.” Skye shouted. “P-please.” Tears were streaming down her face, and her stomach was hurting with the belly laughs.

Agent Ward ran over, face serious, even if his shoulders were still shaking with laughter. “Let my Agent go, or suffer the consequences!”

Lance stood up straight, and stopped his ticking to reply. “Oh yeah, you and what army?”

Miss Potts appeared behind Grant, putting her hands on his shoulders. “This army.” She said. “Count Von Bad-Guy.”

Skye rested her head on Hunter’s shoulder, recovering from the tickle attack. He hitched her up on his hip.

“Nice to see you, Pepper.” He smiled, crossing the distance to give her a one armed hug, still holding Skye in the other. “Christ, it’s been ages.”

Miss Potts nodded. “I know. I’m still a little mad you stole Bobbi away to go gallivanting around England. I miss all of us handing out.”

“Me too.” Hunter said, “If not only for all the free booze I got when I knocked about with Tony.”

Miss Potts rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss the top of Grant’s head. “Not boozing so much now.” She said. “We’re parents now.”

“So I heard.” He laughed. “Who’d have thought it? This you’re kid, then? Hello, mate.” He gave Ward a little wave and Grant smiled back.

“Grant’s my best friend.” Skye said.

“Yeah?” Hunter turned his head to look at her. “You know Bob and I used to hang out with Pepper and Tony all the time a couple of years ago.”

“You did?”

“Oh yeah. Back when we used to all work at the gym during the summer.”

Grant looked up at Miss Potts. “Tony worked at the gym?”

“Not exactly.” Miss Potts said. “But he was there a lot. _I_ worked there. Tony was just there.” She looked around the playground. “Where is Bobbi?”

“Around here somewhere.” Lance said. “She saw one of her mates form school, or something. Oh,” Hunter nodded in the direction of the school gates, “speak of the Hellbeast.”

Skye watched as Bobbi jogged across the playground, catching sight of Miss Potts and waving. “Hey, there, teach!” Bobbi called. “You better be teaching my baby sister well.”

“Of course I am.” Miss Potts said, pulling Bobbi into a hug when she reached her. “Long time, no see. How are you? Married I’ve heard?”

Bobbi blushed. “So the whole world knows now, do they?”

“Sorry.” Skye said. She’d honestly thought it was okay to tell people now.

Hunter kissed her cheeks. “It’s alright, kiddo. She’s not mad.”

“I’m not.” Bobbi said, reaching over to hug Skye. “I promise, baby sis.”

“Okay.”

“You read to go home, honey?” Bobbi asked her, and as Skye was about to reply, Miss Potts’ phone began ringing.

She held up a hand. “Sorry, let me just get this.” Miss Potts walked over to a more quiet area of the playground to talk on the phone.

“It’s Tony.” Grant said. “I can tell by her smile.”

“That’s adorable.” Bobbi said.

Hunter nodded at Grant. “This is Agent Ward, Bob.”

“My name’s Grant.” Grant Ward grinned.

Lance continued. “Agent Ward here is Pepper and Tony’s foster son. And Skye’s BFF.”

Bobbi smiled and held out her hand to Grant. He took it and they shook. “It’s lovely to meet you, Grant. I’m Bobbi.”

“Hello, Bobbi.” Grant said.

Skye poked Hunter in the cheek and he turned to her. “How comes you guys are picking me up?” She asked. “Where’s Mommy?”

“’Mommy’ now is it?” Hunter said.

“Yes.”

“Well, _Mommy’s_ at work still.” Hunter said. “Phil asked us if we could pick you up.”

“But she’s okay? She’s okay, right?”

Hunter frowned. “Of course she is, darlin’.”

Bobbi stroked her cheek. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

“No reason.” Skye said. She could tell from the look on her face, that she wasn’t fooling Bobbi, but her big sister gave her a kiss on the forehead and left it at that. Skye was grateful.

Miss Potts returned, putting her phone away and smiling. “Apparently you’re all coming over to our house tonight. A _gathering_ , I’m told.”

Grant took her hand. “Skye gets to come over?”

“Yes.” Miss Potts smiled at him. “Everyone’s coming. Bobbi, Hunter, Clint, Nat-,”

“Mom and Dad?” Bobbi asked.

“Yep. The whole crew.”

“Brilliant.” Hunter said. “What’s the occasion?”

Miss Potts hugged Grant. “We’ve got a surprise for Grant.”

Skye watched as Grant began begging his foster mother for more information on his surprise. Frankly, he wasn’t the only one who was curious, Skye wanted to know, too.

When they were walking to the car, Hunter turned to Skye. “You’re his best mate, what do you think they’ve got him?”

“Not sure.” She said honestly. “I hope it’s something awesome…like a bullet resistant shield.”

Bobbi shook her head. “We may need to have a discussion with Dad about how much is too much Captain America.”

Skye scoffed. “No amount of Cap is _too_ much, Bobbi. Everyone knows that.”

Lance tickled Skye’s side a little and smirked at his wife. “That’s you told. Skye knows best.”

Skye nodded. “The man’s not wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please do leave a comment, because I love hearing what you think. Thanks again, friends. :)


	18. Skye's Stupid Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! Welcome to another chapter! I hope you enjoy it!

“What’s my surprise?” Grant asked for the fifth time, raising his voice slightly just to make sure that Pepper could hear him from her place in the front of the car. “Please tell me.” He added, ducking his head and peering at her through the reflection in the rear view mirror.

“Stop trying to look cute.” Pepper smirked, turning to look into the back of the car at the stoplight. “I’ve told you, you don’t get your surprise until later.”

He hummed. “Is my surprise a toy?”

“Grant, I’m not telling you.”

“ _Please._ ” He pouted for good measure, but Pepper didn’t waver.

“No.” She said.

Grant huffed and folded his arms, but he couldn’t help but smile. Surprises were exciting, and until he had begun living with Tony and Pepper, he hadn’t really had many experiences with them. At least not good ones, anyway.

“Is it a robot?” Grant knew Tony had been attempting to build some sort of humanoid android in his spare time, and one of Grant’s favourite things to do was to help out in the lab, passing Tony nuts and bolts while they talked and worked on the bot together. Perhaps he had finished it.

Pepper rolled her eyes and turned back to the road, pulling away when the light turned green. “It’s not the robot.” She said. “And I know Tony’s been letting you use the soldering iron when you two are building that thing.”

“Oh.” Grant said. Pepper had been clear about what constituted ‘safe’ for a nine year old in the lab, and using the soldering iron wasn’t included in that list. “Tony makes me wear gloves.” He said by way of defending his foster father.

“Hm.” Pepper hummed.

“And,” Grant said with a grin, “I _am_ almost ten, you know.”

“Of course.” Pepper deadpanned. She glanced in her rear view mirror. “They still following?” She muttered to herself. Then, “Oh, good.”

Grant pulled his seatbelt slacker and turned around so that he could see out of the back window. Bobbi and Hunter’s car was following them back to their house, having waited in the school parking lot until they had left. Grant smiled. He was super excited for Skye to come over because he had never had a friend come to play, and he wanted to show her his toys and the cool new picture Tony had hung on his wall just a few days before. He couldn’t see Skye because she was in the back of the car like him, but Grant waved anyway and Hunter saluted him back, making him laugh.

“Hey.” Pepper said in her ‘mom’ voice. “Sit properly.”

Grant sat back down and readjusted his seatbelt. “Sorry.”

He looked down at his hands, avoiding Pepper’s expression in the mirror. He hated upsetting her and Tony almost more than anything else in the world. They didn’t really shout either, just looked _disappointed_ and it sucked.

“What have I told you?” She asked.

“That it’s dangerous to sit like that.” Grant said. He often got in trouble for moving around in the back of the car. Tony said it was because he had too much energy, but even he reprimanded Grant for not being safe in the car. “I’m sorry.” He said again, making a conscious effort to sit still.

“I forgive you.” Pepper’s voice was back to normal and Grant breathed a sigh of relief. She never stayed mad for very long. Never shouted at him like his mom had done. Neither did Tony. Grant loved them a lot.

“I love you.” He said quietly, walking his fingers over the window in the back of the car. He made them skip over the trees on the road’s edge and hop over the sun.

Pepper reached back and touched his hand, squeezing it briefly before needing it to steer again. “I love you, too.”

They drove quietly for a few more minutes, the houses and buildings giving way to the quiet private road that lead to the Stark Mansion. Grant wanted to turn around, just to check that Skye was still in fact following, but thought better of it, and resigned himself to drive one of the _Hot Wheels_ cars that Pepper kept in the pocket on the back of the seat, up and down one of the books which also resided in there.

“Is it a cake?” Grant asked.

“Sorry?”

“My surprise,” He clarified, “is it a cake?”

Pepper snorted. “No, sweetheart. You’re birthday’s in five days. You get cake then.”

“Is my surprise gonna be at the house?”

The car slowed when the private road gave way to a shingly driveway. “Not until later. Skye’s sister and her boyfriend are going to bring it in a couple hours.”

Grant gasped. “Hours? But that’s so long!”

Pepper stopped the car outside of the house, Hunter pulling up beside her. She turned to Grant, smiling. “You can wait a few hours.” She said. “And anyway, I’m sure you want to play with Skye for a little while?”

He did. That was certainly what he wanted to do. “Yeah. Can we play in my room?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” She never _ever_ called him that in school. Grant thought maybe it was because the other kids might tease him or something, but honestly, he wouldn’t have cared. Tony had lots of nicknames for Grant, some of them just stupid that he said just to make Grant laugh, but Pepper only had a couple. Most of the time, Grant was her ‘sweetheart’. And Pepper was his…well, she was Grant’s ‘Pepper’. She didn’t need anything else, because she was perfect as she was.

Grant unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned forward to give Pepper a hug and kiss. “I love you.” He told her again. Sometimes he wondered if Tony and Pepper knew how much he loved them, even if he did try to tell them all of the time, so he liked to show them.

Pepper hugged him back tightly, pressing a kiss into his hair. “I love you.”

He pulled back. “I’m glad you’re my Pepper.” Grant said, picking his school bag up and moving to open the car door. He frowned and paused, thinking back to the ‘Happy Families’ cards they had at school. He still had his sheet of drawings in his bag. “Everybody should have a Pepper.”

Pepper’s eyes were shining. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Grant said.

Pepper got out of the car and opened his door for him. She hugged him again when he got out and Grant let himself be comforted by the smell of her cardigan and the feeling of the fabric under his fingertips. He closed his eyes for a second and thought that maybe he would be able to find Pepper in a room full of people even if he were blind. Pepper was important.

“You’re a good boy.” She said. “Such a good boy.”

Grant opened his eyes. Bobbi was sitting on the hood of her car, talking on the phone while Hunter helped Skye get out of her car seat. He was doing the funny accent again, and Skye was giggling, dodging his attempts to tickle her. She seemed happy.

“I’m happy.” Grant said, then frowned at himself. He hadn’t really meant to say that aloud.

Pepper was still hugging him. “That’s good.” She said.

“I know.” Grant smiled and pressed his nose into her cardigan. “It’s the best thing ever.”

And he couldn’t have been happier that his best friend in the entire world was happy, too. She had her family, now, just like Grant did, and surprise or no surprise, he was happier than he had _ever_ been. Ever. He just hoped it was going to last.

…

Even without knowing it was Bobbi Nat was speaking to, Clint would have been able to tell anyone who was on the other end of Nat’s phone. There was just something about the way Tasha spoke to her sister, which Clint had learned to distinguish from the other people she spoke to. Something about the little giggles that punctuated sentences, or the gentle smile she had on her face when Bobbi was speaking. It was difficult to really point out _how_ Clint could tell who she was talking to, but he just could.

As it happened, it was made a little easier by the fact that Natasha usually only spoke to either Bobbi or her mother on the phone. Occasionally she would talk to Phil, but that tended to only be when he called her, and even then the conversations were short. Clint avoided phone calls at all costs. Not being able to hear very well did that to a guy, but Nat was very similar in her anxiety surrounding phone calls. At first he had thought it something to do with the language barrier, but over the years, her English had become practically perfect and the anxiety had remained. Now, Clint thought it maybe had something to do with being unable to see the caller’s face, unable to read an expression or body language. Melinda and Bobbi it seemed, were exempt to the rule.

“Okay.” Nat was saying into the phone, phone trapped in between her shoulder and her ear while she rifled through her dresser. Clint watched her pick through the clothes while he lay stretched out on their bed, Lucky lying across his legs and Lulu crawling up his arm. Lucky lifted his head and tried to sniff the tarantula. Clint gently pushed his muzzle away when he got a little close for comfort. “She’s pretty tame, buddy.” Clint told the dog. “But all spiders bite and I suspect you’d prefer not to experience it.”

Lucky licked his hand. Clint liked to think he was thanking him.

“No problem.” He told the dog.

Natasha giggled and Clint looked up. “Yeah, okay. What time?” She paused, pulling out a shirt that Clint _knew_ had once been his a long time ago, and draping it over her shoulder. He had no hope of ever getting it back. “Okay.” She smirked. “No. Bobbi, Mom and Dad would _kill_ us.” She laughed and the t-shirt fell off her shoulder.

Clint quirked a questioning eyebrow at her and she waved him off. _Tell you later_. He nodded back.

“Right.” Nat said. “I’ll bring them.” She put a hand on her hip and held the phone with her other. “Are you _sure_ Stark will be cool with us doing that? I know him and Pepper are your friends, but-,” Bobbi had apparently cut her off. “Okay, _okay._ Fine. But if we get in trouble I’m blaming you.”

Lulu almost fell off Clint’s shoulder when he laughed. Apparently the sisters were planning on some mutiny, and from the look Nat was giving him, Clint was also to be involved in this unknown plan.

“I love you, too.” Nat said. “See you in a couple of hours. Okay, bye.” She threw the phone at him and Clint caught it mid-air. Tasha plucked something else out of her drawer.

“I take it we’re not just dropping Lucky off at Stark’s and having nice quiet evening with the family?” Clint smirked.

Natasha grinned, green eyes lighting up. It was a look Clint loved, where she could easily pass for twenty-eight or twelve, depending on the content of the misbehaviour. Clint was convinced that if Nat wanted to, she could rob the crown jewels from the Queen’s head and get away with it.

“Stark’s got an indoor pool.” Nat said. She held a bikini top in front of his face.

“Oh?” Clint smiled. Perhaps tonight they would not be stealing from the Queen, but something altogether more fun. “A pool?” He took the top from her.

“An _indoor_ pool.” She clarified, sitting on the edge of the bed. Nat took Lulu from Clint’s shoulder and set her on Lucky’s back. The dog remained stock-still. “Bobbi wants us to bring her and Hunter’s swimming suits.”

Clint watched as Lulu slowly made her way her further up the dog’s back. “So? We’re gonna go swimming?” He nudged Nat with his foot. “Our family owns a giant gym. We can go swimming anytime.”

“But,” Nat shuffled closer to him, until her head was resting on his shoulder and her breath tickled his neck, “Stark has a diving pool.”

That perked Clint up. “A diving pool?”

“He’s got a ten metre board.”

“Awesome.” Clint breathed.

To most, having a diving pool at ones disposal would be something pretty cool. Not many people had indoor pools, let alone indoor diving pools, but to Clint and Nat, this opportunity was particularly inviting. And Bobbi knew this. Ever the adrenaline junkies, Clint and Natasha had found themselves banned from several places over the years, for acting in what apparently constituted an ‘irresponsible manner’.

Only a few months before, Natasha had informed Bobbi over the phone of her and Clint’s recent barring from their campus pool in D.C., due to some misbehaviour. Quite frankly, Clint couldn’t see how they could really call what he and Nat were doing as ‘unsafe’, but apparently running and doing backflips into the pool from the five metre board when you weren’t trained was classed as such. Perhaps it had had something to with the fact that he and Nat had been blindfolded and had their wrists bound to one another that had been the problem.

“We never got the chance to try it from the ten metre board.” Nat said excitedly. “Bobbi and Hunter just want to get drunk and play Marco Polo, but we could play on the diving boards.”

Clint grinned at her enthusiasm. He couldn’t help it. “And I take it Stark’s not cool with this.”

“Pepper would never let us, and don’t even get me started on Mom and Dad.” Nat groaned. “But Bobbi thinks we could slip away later on. Hunter’s already convinced he can get Tony to crack open the liquor.”

He chuckled. Hunter _would_ have a plan to end the teetotalism from the gathering. “I’m in, you know, as long as the kids aren’t around.”

“Obviously.” Nat agreed. “We can only be a bad influence on each other, not on them. Skye doesn’t need that.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

Natasha kissed him, and retrieved Lulu from her exploration of Lucky’s head, gently placing her in her tank. “They want us to bring Lucky over at six, so we have until then to plan this thing out.”

He pulled her back over to the bed by her wrist. “Have I ever told you how much I love that you’re not boring?”

“All the time.” Tasha grinned. She kissed him again, worming her way onto his lap until Lucky jumped off the bed. “We’ve got until six.” She mumbled against his lips.

Clint moved his hand up her back under her shirt. “Maybe I could help you change into your swimsuit.”

Nat flicked her eyes to the side of the bed. “Not until the dog’s out of the room. I don’t want him watching.”

“You don’t mind your spider watching.”

She flicked his ear. “Have you ever thought about how weird we are?” Nat smirked.

“Super weird.”

She nodded. “I kinda love it.”

“Me, too.” Clint said. “Okay, let’s lock the dog out of the room so we can have sex.”

“God, Clint. You’re such a romantic.”

…

Phil wanted to tell Melinda to get her feet off the dashboard, particularly because her sneakers were scuffing the dash and leaving little white marks that infuriated Phil to his very core, but he kept his mouth shut. Melinda had seemed fine for most of the day, better than fine, even, because she had managed to put up with Tony Stark for much of it, but then after Clint and Natasha had taken Lucky back to the house, and Tony had returned home to meet Pepper, Mel had seemed to go down hill a little.

Even now, an hour or so later, she still seemed a little pale, eyes closed against the sun.

“Mel?” Phil asked. “You okay, honey?”

She smiled, but her eyes remained closed. “I’m just tired, Phil.”

He wasn’t so sure. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Phil that she hadn’t really eaten much all day, even when she’d seemed fine.

“Are you sure, Mel?” He tries asking again. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

It was then that Melinda opened her eyes. “Phil, quit worrying.” She said. “Honestly, I’m okay.”

Phil decided to trust her. Well, he didn’t _decide_ anything. Phil innately trusted Melinda, but he made the conscious choice to leave her be. They were driving up Tony Stark’s driveway, and now was not the time to irritate his wife with his probably unneeded worry.

“Did you tell Tasha what time Tony wanted her to bring the dog over?” Mel said.

Phil didn’t mention the fact that she was attempting to change the subject. “Bobbi said she would call her.”

“Good.” Mel smiled. “Good.” She turned to him with a little smirk. “I bet you’re glad that mean doggy’s not going to be in your house anymore.”

Phil huffed as he pulled in beside Melinda’s car Hunter had been driving. “It’s not that I’m _scared_ of dogs.” He argued. “I just don’t like them.”

Melinda chuckled, some colour coming back into her cheeks. “And what don’t you like about them? That they scare you?”

They both got out of the car. “They’re dirty.” Phil said, glaring at his wife over the car’s roof. “And they smell.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Phil.”

Tony barrelled out of the front door, kitted out in _Nerf_ apparel. “Hey guys!” He greeted cheerily, forgoing one of the many handguns attached to his person, in favour of replacing a magazine on the large gun in his arms. “Come on in. Pep’s inside talking with Bobbi.”

Phil chuckled, walking over to Tony’s side and plucking one of the handguns from its holster. “I take it the kids are keeping you busy?”

Tony shifted from foot to foot, keeping his eyes on the front door. “No, they’re playing upstairs in Grant’s room. Haven’t heard a peep from them.”

Mel glanced at Phil and he shrugged. “So, what’s with the toys?”

Tony took his eyes off the door to look at Melinda properly. He looked genuinely offended. “They’re not _toys_. They’re ‘weapon replicas’.”

Phil looked at the gun in his hand. “This is bright yellow and has suction cups on the end of the ammunition.”

Tony glared at him. “These particular models are designed for adults. They’re absolutely not for kids.”

“I am going to keel you Meezter Stark!” Lance shouted in a ridiculous accent as he jumped out from the front door, decked in equally as much _Nerf_ merchandise as Stark.

“Not for kids, huh?” Mel muttered to Phil.

Phil sniggered as the two grown men ran off across Stark’s land, shooting foam darts at each other.

“That man is married to our daughter.” Phil said, just as Hunter fell to the ground and Tony pummelled him with darts at short range.

“He’ll be a good dad.” Melinda said.

Phil choked on air, his mouth going dry. “Is Bobbi pregnant?”

Mel turned to walk into the house. “God, I hope not.” She said. “I just meant hypothetically.”

Phil breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. We don’t need any more babies around here?”

Melinda stopped in her tracks, standing still in Tony’s lavish hallway. “No?”

“Nope.” Phil chuckled. “We’ve got far too many kids already, around here. No more babies.”

“Oh.” Mel frowned at him.

Phil put a hand on her shoulder. “Mel?”

She blinked, and as quick as her odd little episode had happened, it was over and she was smiling at him. “Come on, let’s find the girls.”

Melinda walked away, navigating her way through Tony and Pepper’s house with an ease that only came with having spent way too many nights there collecting a drunk Bobbi and Hunter from the floor of one of Tony’s many bathrooms. Phil followed her just as easily. It was a testament to how much Melinda and Phil loved their eldest daughter, that they had both at some point or another cleaned up her husband’s puke after a night at Stark’s. Frankly, it was incredible that Bobbi and Pepper were both so successful when one looked at them in their younger, wilder days. Tony and Lance, however…Phil caught sight of the two of them still chasing each other around on the grass outside…they were perhaps more believable.

“Dad? _Dad?_ ” Bobbi was clicking her fingers in front of his face.

“Huh?” Phil said dumbly, and Bobbi rolled her eyes. He looked around the kitchen at Pepper and Melinda, both smirking at him. “Sorry, I spaced out there.”

Bobbi shook her head. “What were you even thinking about?”

“Honestly?” Phil said, sitting down at the counter by Melinda. “That time I had to clean Hunter’s puke off Pepper’s good towels upstairs.”

“Ew.” Bobbi said with a grimace, as Pepper snorted.

“Please don’t bring that story up,” Pepper paused, “or _any_ of the stories in similar taste, when your talking to parents at the school.” She sipped her drink. “I was _not_ capable of teaching children then.”

Bobbi elbowed her. “ _That_ was only two years ago.”

“I’ve grown up a lot since then.” Pepper defended. “And anyway, that was a bad night for you and Lance…and Tony, _I_ was the responsible one holding your hair.”

Bobbi hugged Pepper tightly. “And I’ll never forget it.”

“So, the kids upstairs?” Mel asked.

Pepper glanced to the window. “No. They’re playing outside.” As the words left her mouth, Lance pushed Tony’s face against the window, smushing his nose and cheeks. “The _children_ are upstairs.”

Tony’s nose was flat against the glass.

Bobbi looked to Pepper. “That’s your boyfriend.”

Lance laughed manically. “You will never eezcape from zee eevil Count Von Bad-Guy!”

Pepper smirked at Bobbi. “That’s your _husband_.”

“I know.” Bobbi said. “I swear he’s a wonderful man…”

“Die! Die! Meezter Stark!”

“…you know…sometimes.”

Phil sighed heavily. “That’s my son-in-law.”

Melinda patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. He’s my son-in-law, too. We’ll get through it together.”

He wrapped an arm around her, kissing her cheek. “See, way too many kids already.”

“Mm.” Melinda hummed, and left it at that, excusing herself to the bathroom a moment later.

…

Grant Ward led Skye through so many corridors and sets of stairs, that she was sure she would never be able to find her way out of his house ever again. Grant said they were taking the long way to his bedroom, so that he could show Skye all of the cool things in his house. And it was cool.

So far Grant had shown Skye the miniature bowling alley, the gym, the _gigantic_ indoor swimming pool that Skye could tell was huge even thought they didn’t have the key to get inside, and even a room Grant called the ‘media room’, which was really just a room full of video games. Clint would like that, she thought.

“It was just really plain when I first moved in.” He said, leading her down another hallway. “Tony said he didn’t want to decorate it a colour I didn’t like, but he painted himself real quick after I told him I liked orange.”

Skye had to do a couple of little skips to keep up with Grant’s longer legs. “Orange? That’s bright. My room’s blue.”

“Like the sky.” He grinned.

“Yeah. And yours is orange like a...orange!”

“Well,” Grant smiled, “it’s not _all_ orange.” He stopped outside of a bright orange door covered in various stickers.

Skye eyed the vivid wood beneath some stickers of soccer players and dragons. “Not all orange?”

He shrugged. “Fine. The door’s orange, but…” Grant opened his bedroom door and ushered Skye inside. “See, it’s not _all_ orange.”

She looked around the room, mouth falling open at the sheer size of it. “Wow.” And Grant was right, it wasn’t _all_ orange. In fact, most of the bedroom was white, with black stripes and orange stars around on the walls. There were even stars on the ceiling. “Tony did this?”

“Yeah. All by himself. He didn’t pay anyone or anything.” Grant said proudly, crossing the room the size of Skye’s whole living room, to sit on his bed. “He even put up all of the shelves and built my wardrobe. Oh, and look at this.” Grant jumped up excitedly and grabbed Skye’s hand, dragging her over to the wall furthest away from the door. “He just put this up the other day.”

Skye looked at the picture on the wall that Grant was pointing it. It was essentially a large frame, probably as tall as Skye was if were to be set on the ground, that had lots and lots of photographs inside, all arranged on an orange backdrop. She stepped forward to get a better look.

“Is that Miss Potts?” Skye asked, pointing to a little photograph of a young woman who _looked_ like Miss Potts, but seemed lankier, more…childish.

“Yeah.” Grant said. “That was when she was still in school. And there,” He pointed to a photograph higher in the frame, “is Tony when he was a teenager.”

“Is that Tony, too?” Skye asked of a photograph of a baby wrapped in a blue blanket.

Grant laughed loudly, and the hand that still held Skye’s squeezed hers. “No!” He grinned. “It’s _me._ Me when I was a baby.”

“I can’t imagine you being so small.” Skye inspected the photo, taking her hand from Grant to steady herself on the wall and go up onto her tiptoes. “You were so tiny.”

“We all were, I think.” Grant said.

Skye looked at the woman in the photo who held baby Grant. “Who’s that?”

“My Mom.” He said casually. “Tony put all these photos in the frame so that I would have one place where everyone in my family is.” He pointed to each photograph in turn. “My Mom,” he indicated another picture, “that’s her and my brothers and me, and this one is me and Pepper and Tony, and this one here,” he smiled brightly, “is me and Tony in the lab. Sometimes I help him in there.”

Skye smiled and nodded, acknowledging each of the photographs Grant showed her, but her eyes remained fixed on the one of Grant, maybe age six or seven, with his Mom and his two brothers. One of the boys was older, maybe fifteen or so, but there was the baby, asleep in little Grant’s arms. _Thomas_ , Skye remembered. He was in heaven now, Grant had said. The baby in the photograph was dead.

Grant had moved on, talking about some of his toys, something about a deck of monster cards and an action figure that was off some show on the TV. Skye was struggling to concentrate on anything other than baby Thomas.

“Can I ask you something?” She said eventually when they were sitting together on Grant’s floor, throwing him off his explanation of the game you were meant to play with the monster cards.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“It might make you sad.” Skye said. “I don’t want to upset you.”

Grant smiled kindly and shuffled over to Skye on the carpet. “It’s okay. If I feel sad, I’ll tell you and then we can stop.”

“Okay.”

“Ask me, then.” Grant said.

Skye looked over the photo with Thomas in. “How did Thomas die?”

“Oh.” Grant said, and Skye took that to mean she’d upset him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay, Skye. I’m not sad.”

“You’re not?” Skye looked at his face. He didn’t seem to be lying. “But, he died. Why aren’t you sad?”

“I am sad.” Grant said. “I’m just not _sad_. I’m sad he died and he didn’t get to grow up and that’s sad, but I don’t feel like I want to cry.”

“It is sad, though.”

He nodded. “Thomas drowned.”

Skye was taken aback. Suddenly she pictured the little baby from the photograph screaming, being pulled under a dark ocean by crashing waves. The water was going into his mouth and Skye so desperately wanted to stop it, to reach out and grab baby Thomas from the water. But she couldn’t because it wasn’t real…except it was, wasn’t it? Because he _was_ dead.

Grant shuffled through the cards in his hands. “Christian was gone, he left not long after that photograph. I don’t know where he went. My Mom was sick and she had to take lots of medicine and some of the medicine was bad.”

“I didn’t know there were _bad_ medicines.”

“There are. Ones you’re not supposed to take, but she thought they made her feel better. But they made her sicker, and she used to sleep for a long time and get mad about things all the time.” Grant closed his eyes. “One day I went to school, and she shouted at me for waking her up. We didn’t have any food in the house, and I was hungry. That’s what I remember.”

Skye moved until her arm pressed against his. “Then what happened?”

Grant Ward opened his eyes. He looked sad now, like he might cry, and Skye _really_ didn’t want to see happy Grant Ward cry, but he began speaking before she could tell him to stop.

“The police came to my school and took me away. They said Mom couldn’t look after me anymore. She had to go to a special hospital.” He sighed. “They said she put Thomas in the bath and then she took some medicine and fell asleep and he drowned. It was an accident, but it was her fault he died.” Grant looked at Skye. “That’s why I can’t see her anymore.”

Grant may not have been crying, but Skye was. She turned away from Grant, scared her tears would upset him further, but he put a hand on her shoulder. She focused on one of the orange stars on the wall, desperately attempting not to visualise the baby in the tub.

“I don’t think he was hurting.” He said quietly. “I think it might have just felt like falling asleep. I’m not sad now, because he’s happy now, in heaven.”

Skye couldn’t help it when she asked, “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes.” Grant paused. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Skye said. Living with nuns for so long, she was well versed in the Christian religion, but frankly, when she had prayed so much for things that never happened, Skye had become disillusioned. “I don’t think I do.”

“Then what do you think happens to you when you die?”

Skye turned to her best friend in the entire world, and she wanted to lie to him, to tell him that he was probably right and that his baby brother was in heaven, flying around with the angels, with Jessica’s Mom and Peter’s parents, but she wouldn’t lie to Grant. He didn’t seem so sad anymore, and he was just watching Skye curiously.

She thought for a second. “I think that when a person dies, it’s sad for the people who loved them. It’s really sad because they’re gone forever, except in your head.” She looked at the photograph. “You can remember Thomas in your head, and then he’s still alive in there, even for a little while.”

“Maybe.” Grant said. “But maybe he’s in heaven.”

Skye sighed. “Maybe.”

He nudged her with his shoulder. “I’m not sad, Skye. I promise.”

She kept her eyes on baby Thomas’ photo. He was so small in the picture, and Mommy’s baby was even smaller, tiny, because it still fitted in her tummy. It couldn’t fight, or shout, or even cry yet, and Skye could do all of those things. She was _really_ good at shouting. She could chase away the baddies. Agent Skye would make sure the baddies stayed away and that no bad medicine would get to Mommy and that the baby would never be left on its own. Skye wouldn’t let anyone hurt her baby. Even if she didn’t like the stupid baby, _no one_ was ever going to be allowed to hurt Mommy, or Skye’s baby.

“Hey,” Grant said, “you wanna go play outside? We can play spies and climb trees?”

She grinned. Even when Skye was scared and anxious, _Agent_ Skye was brave and strong. Agent Skye could do anything.

“Let’s go, Agent Ward.” She said, standing up. He followed, mirroring her grin. “We’ve got baddies to catch.”

Grant fished a couple of brightly coloured _Nerf_ guns out of a box by his bed and threw one to Skye. “Here’s your night-night gun, Agent Skye.” He said, running out of the bedroom door.

Skye followed behind, holding up her gun for any attackers. “That’s a stupid name.” She called. “How about we call them ‘Icers’?”

…

_We’ve got enough kids,_ he’d said. _No more babies,_ he’d said. Well, it had been to that effect, Melinda couldn’t really focus on what had been Phil’s _exact_ wording. Her mind was too focused on the sentiment. Phil didn’t want a baby.

Frankly, Melinda didn’t either, and didn’t that just make her feel infinitely guilty. She placed a hand on her belly in silent apology to her unborn child. She hadn’t wanted this, had never ever been one for doting over pregnant woman and touching their stomachs, and Melinda had certainly never wanted it for herself. She was perfectly happy with her family already. Her children were her children no matter who had carried them before they were born. Bobbi, Nat, Skye, they were _Melinda’s_ children.

And now she had another one. A child Phil did not want.

Phil was out with Tony and Hunter, playing pretend with Skye and Grant. Bobbi and Pepper were out there, too, shooting each other with foam darts. Kids, Mel smiled, the lot of them. She could see them all in the distance from her position on Tony’s patio. Hunter was hanging out of a tree with Skye under one arm while Phil held her legs. She squealed in delight.

Skye hadn’t wanted to play at first when she saw Mel. It had taken a good five minutes of coaxing from Phil to leave Melinda sitting on the patio, and go and play with the rest of them. Melinda had passed up the opportunity to play spies, claiming she was just as happy to watch, but Skye had seen right through her. Of course she had. She was still worried about her.

Skye. She really needed to talk to Skye. Her baby.

Now there was another baby.

Skye screamed again, ducking away from Hunter and running straight into Phil’s arms, holding onto him like a little monkey. He swung her around and allowed her to shoot at Bobbi and Hunter while he chased them. They were all too far away to hear what they were saying, but every so often a round of laughter reached her ears and made her smile.

She had to tell him. Whether her husband wanted it or not, Melinda was pregnant, and they really needed to have a discussion about this. For all of the children they had, they’d never had to talk about something like this. This had never been the plan.

Eighteen years old and eloping with two random strangers as their witnesses, Phil and Melinda had never really had a plan. Spontaneity had been their thing. Getting married three hours after getting engaged…Mel smirked to herself; they had no right to be pissed with Bobbi and Hunter.

As far as plans went, Melinda and Phil had only ever had one: be happy. It had been working out so far. But from day one Melinda had been clear, she didn’t want to get pregnant. For an eighteen year old it was perfectly understandable and Phil had been totally on board, and then they had never looked back to having a baby, because they had Bobbi, and then Nat, and now Skye. It had simply never been something Melinda and Phil had ever felt they needed to be happy. It wasn’t part of the plan for Melinda to get pregnant. She didn’t _want_ to be pregnant.

But she loved her baby. She wanted her baby.

“Mom?” Bobbi asked her, jogging over. She was fiddling with her phone.

Melinda took a deep breath and smiled her daughter. “Yes?”

“Nat and Clint are bringing the dog now.” Bobbi smiled. She had at some point since arriving pulled her hair into a ponytail with one of Skye’s purple hair ties, presumably to keep the masses of blonde away from her face during the spy game.

“You want me to go meet them out the front?”

“Yeah. Pepper says to take him in the kitchen.” Bobbi smiled brightly. “I was going to ask Dad, but, you know…”

Melinda chuckled. “He’s terrified of the dog?”

“Yeah. And will you tell Tasha that I’ve got everything worked out.”

“Worked out for what?” Mel asked, standing up.

Bobbi shrugged far too casually. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

“Alright, I’ll go meet them.” Melinda considered Bobbi for a moment. Something about the gleam in her eyes and her forced nonchalance had Melinda’s ‘Mommy alarm bells’ ringing. “What are you up to?”

“ _Nothing_.” Bobbi insisted. “Mom, I’m twenty-five, do you really think I would be planning some kind of secret rendezvous in Tony Stark’s house that I wouldn’t tell you about?”

“Yes.” Mel said. “Yes, I do.”

Bobbi kissed her cheek. “Bye, Mommy. I love you.” She ran back to re-join the _Nerf_ battle.

Melinda shook her head. Oh, they were definitely up to something, but she had more pressing things on her mind tonight. She would trust her eldest children not to get into too much trouble. Talking to her youngest was her current priority.

…

Clint didn’t want to give away Lucky. They had formed a bond over the short time they had spent together, and he knew Natasha felt the same way. More than anything, Clint wanted to be able to stay in Chicago with his family, and he and Nat had spoken at length about maybe making the move back permanently, but both of them had a couple more years of college and transferring was such a pain, it almost wasn’t worth it.

D.C. had always felt a long way from home, because it was. He and Natasha were luckier than most, in that they had moved away from home together, and had an apartment away from campus so they didn’t have to experience the evils of living in student dorms. They had visited as often as they could, and knowing that Bobbi and Hunter were all away across the Atlantic, had somehow made them feel closer to home, closer to Nat’s parents. Now that everyone was back in one place, and they were hanging out with their friends and family, well, Clint was feeling significantly more bummed about having to go back to D.C.

If they were staying in Chicago, maybe he and Nat could have kept the dog. It was unlikely, and Clint had to be honest with himself in thinking that in all actuality, as long as they were still in school, caring for such a demanding pet would be near impossible. Lucky was better off Stark and his kid.

And as much as it pained him to hand over the leash, the absolute joy on the little boy’s face when he realised what was happening, was enough to convince Clint that this was the right decision. Natasha squeezed his hand and smiled. She thought so, too.

“You got me a dog?” Grant said to Tony, dropping to his knees and allowing Lucky to lick his face. Skye giggled from beside Melinda as she watched. The little girl had been like her mother’s shadow for practically the whole evening.

“Well,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around Pepper, “it was a last minute sort of thing. Clint and Nat saved him, and they can’t take care of him, so I thought maybe we could.”

Grant nodded enthusiastically. “We can. We can. I’m gonna be the best dog owner ever.” He turned to Clint. “I promise I’ll look after him.”

Clint smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

“His name is Lucky.” Natasha said.

“I love him.” Grant kissed Lucky and the dog licked his cheek.

“Aww.” Skye smiled. “He loves you, too.”

“He certainly does.” Clint said. “I’m glad you love him, Grant.”

“I do. And you guys can come visit him.” He turned to Tony. “Can’t they?”

Tony nodded. “Sure. Call first.”

Clint rolled his eyes and Tony winked at him. “I don’t think we could have found a better home for him.”

Tony whistled and the dog looked up. “Not you.” He said. “I was beckoning the Russian and her mate.”

“I have a name.”

“So do I.” Nat muttered.

“Whatever.” Tony said. “Dog party in the kitchen, but I need to talk to you two and you two.” He nodded at Bobbi and half dragged Hunter out of the kitchen.

Clint followed with Nat, smiling when Skye and Grant began playing tug of war with Lucky. Phil stood by the window, eyeing the dog with contempt.

Tony closed the door behind them. “Bobbi tells me you want to go in my pool.”

“You told him?” Nat thumped her sister on the arm.

“I had to.” Bobbi argued. “I felt bad. My moral compass was wavering.”

Clint snorted. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to steal his booze to get my underage siblings drunk so that they could do drunken diving. Tony’s a friend…I wanted to _inform_ him we were doing all that.”

Hunter looked to his wife. “Everything about that plan sounds amazing.”

“Listen,” Tony said, “I have no problem with you getting drunk. It’s not illegal. Private property laws and all that.”

“Huh.” Clint said. “Good to know.”

“ _But,_ ” Tony continued, “I have conditions.”

Nat nodded. “Of course.”

“One, you stay away from the kids. You guys get to have your own fun, but it’s separate from theirs.”

“Sure.” Clint agreed.

“Two, be sensible. I’m not carting anyone off to the emergency room.” He slapped Lance on the back. “Including you. I’ve already had to do that one too many times.”

Hunter nodded. “Understood. We’ll be adequately buzzed, but remain safe around the water at all times.”

“I swear to God, if one of you dies in my pool, I’m gonna be so pissed.”

“We’ll be good.” Nat promised. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. Well, I _am_ a nice person.” He smiled. “Be good. All of you. I’m only doing this because I have some level of nostalgia that takes over me whenever Hunter and Bobbi come here. Good times.”

“Remember when you vomited in my face after you drank too much Kahlua?” Lance said.

Tony smiled. “Good times.”

Bobbi smirked. “I can’t believe that happened more than once.”

Lance grimaced. “I know.”

“Here.” Tony dropped a key into Bobbi’s hand. “Lock up after yourselves.” And went back into the kitchen.

She grinned at them. “Let’s go play.” Bobbi said, jumping on the spot. She grabbed Nat’s hand and pulled her towards Tony’s pool.

“You’re twenty-five and married.” Natasha laughed.

“Yeah, and sometimes it’s fun to act like I’m fifteen!”

Hunter chased after them. “Wait for me! I want to relive my teenage years, too!”

Clint’s family was crazy. Somehow over the past few years Clint had worked his way into this loving and outlandish family. Some people liked to go out with their friends, clubbing, dancing, other terrible things like that. But Clint, well, he was perfectly happy to spend his Monday evening drinking beers and doing backflips into a billionaire’s pool. His family was awesome.

“Tasha!” He called. “I bet we could jump off the ten metre board with you on my shoulders!”

…

It wasn’t difficult to get Skye away from the others. Phil was preoccupied with being terrified of Lucky, and Pepper, Tony and Grant were too involved in playingwith their new companion, to notice Skye and Melinda’s absence. The rest of the kids were off doing God only knew what.

“Where are we going?” Skye asked her, holding her hand tightly in hers.

Melinda opened the French doors of one of Tony’s conservatories and led Skye into the grounds. “I thought we could take a walk.”

“Okay.” Skye seemed content with that answer.

“We need to have a little talk.” Melinda said. They walked further away from the house, towards Tony’s smattering of large trees.

Skye looked up at her. “Yes. We do.”

They walked all the way to the trees, and Skye let go of Melinda’s hand to walk through the trunks, running her fingers over the bark. She inspected the ground next to one of them, then sat down and patted the space next to her.

“Mommy, you sit here.” Skye instructed, and Melinda took a seat in the grass, back leaning against the tree. The leaves above rustled and Mel glanced up. A shadow crossed her vision. “Let’s talk.” Skye said, and Mel’s gaze returned to her daughter, ignoring the strange shadow.

“I know that you know.” Mel said. She took Skye’s hand. “I don’t know _how_ you know, but I know that you know.”

“I know.”

Mel narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”

Skye smirked. “I know that you know that I know, but you don’t know _how_ I know.”

“You’re a brat.” Melinda said lovingly. She tickled Skye’s side. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Skye scooted closer, until she was practically in Melinda’s lap. “I found the tests in your bathroom.” She said quietly.

“Oh.” Mel stroked her hair, Skye kept her eyes on her lap. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that, Skye.”

“S’okay.” Skye shrugged.

“It’s not. I wanted to be able to tell you. Baby, I wanted to explain everything properly to you.”

Skye wrapped her arms around Melinda. “Will you love me even when the baby’s here?”

Melinda hugged Skye too tightly. She pulled her into her lap whether the little girl wanted it or not, and pressed her nose into her hair. “I’ll love you no matter what.” She managed to say without crying. The tears were trying to come, but Melinda breathed through them for Skye’s sake. “I love you so much.”

“But what about the baby?” Skye looked up at her with glassy eyes.

“I could have a thousand babies, and I would _never_ stop loving you.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life.”

Skye tightened her arms around her. “I don’t like the baby.” She muttered into Mel’s chest.

“No?”

“I don’t want it.” Skye huffed.

Melinda sighed. After hearing what Phil had to say, apparently Skye wasn’t the only one. She rubbed Skye’s back. “I know it’s hard, honey. I know. It’s hard for me, too.”

“Do you love the baby?” Skye asked.

“I do.”

Skye frowned. “But how?”

Melinda touched her cheek. “I just do.”

“But,” Skye rubbed at one of her eyes, “you don’t even _know_ the baby yet. How can you love it?”

“I love all of my babies no matter what. You, Bobbi, Nat.” Mel took one of Skye’s hands and pressed it to her belly. “This baby is no different.”

Skye looked at where her hand rested on Mel’s abdomen. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” She asked quietly.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can find out soon.”

“I don’t want it to get hurt, Mommy.” Skye rubbed her tummy. “I don’t like it, but I don’t want the baby to die.”

Melinda put a hand on top of Skye’s. “Why do think that would happen?”

“Grant had a baby brother.” Skye said. “He drowned in the tub all alone.”

Melinda hadn’t known that. Tony had told her about Grant’s family. An absent father, a mother on so many drugs she could barely function, brothers, one older who was in prison and would be for a very long time, and one younger who had died as a baby. She had never asked how the baby died, and Tony hadn’t offered the information up.

Skye cuddled into her. “We can protect it, right?”

“We can.” Mel said. She kissed Skye’s hair. “You’re such a good girl. You know that?”

“I am?” Skye looked up at her.

“You are. You’re so special, and loving and caring and-,” She had to stop, to gather herself or risk getting teary. “Skye, I promise you, baby or no baby, I will love you until the end of time.”

“And we’ll protect our baby?” Skye asked. “Even if it’s a sucky baby and no one likes it?”

Mel smirked. “Sure.” She kissed Skye’s temple. “I think you’re going to be an amazing big sister.”

“I am.” Skye said with confidence. “Because I’m going to take care of our baby even though I don’t like it.” She scooted down Melinda’s body until her face was level with her stomach. “Hey, baby. You suck.”

“Skye.” Mel attempted to warn, although her struggle was now withholding laughter. “Be nice to your unborn brother or sister.”

“Hey, baby. I’m gonna take care of you even though you suck.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “I guess that’s a little better.”

Skye sat back on her heels. “Is it still a secret?”

“Only you and me, kid. We’re the only ones who know.” Melinda beckoned Skye back over, and the little girl retook her place on her lap. “That makes you very special.”

“I promise I’ll keep it a secret, Mommy. And I’ll take care of you when you’re not feeling good.”

Mel rocked Skye, patting her back. “Me feeling sick is normal, you know.” She told Skye. “The baby just makes me feel a little sick sometimes.”

“Miss Potts said that.”

“You asked her?”

“I didn’t tell her.” Skye said quickly. “I just asked about it.” She rested her head on Melinda’s chest and put her thumb in her mouth. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Mel didn’t have the heart to tell Skye to stop sucking her thumb, so she just left her to it. “I’m going to get so fat.” She mumbled to herself.

“I don’t care.” Skye slurred around her thumb. “I’ll love you anyway.”

Mel grinned. “You will?”

“Mmhm.” Her eyes were closed and her fingers rubbed the hem of Mel’s shirt.

Mel poked her side. “Don’t fall asleep on me, Skye.”

Her little eyes fluttered open, but the thumb remained in her mouth. “Phil is the baby’s Daddy?”

Melinda frowned. “Of course.”

Skye took her thumb out of her mouth. “He’s my Daddy, too?”

“He is.” Melinda said. She stroked Skye’s hair, still a little sweaty from running around. “If you want him to be.”

“I do.” Skye closed her eyes again. “I’ve got a Mommy and a Daddy.”

“You do.” Mel kissed her.

“And I’ve got big sisters, and a Clint and a Hunter.”

Melinda sniggered. “Not many people have a Clint and a Hunter. They’re very unique.”

Skye nodded. “And I’ve got a stupid baby.” Despite her words, her tone was fond.

“Yep.” Mel said with a smirk. “You’ve got that, too.”

Skye’s thumb worked its way back into her mouth, and the little girl hooked her fingers over her nose. “I love you, Mommy.” She mumbled. “Baby, I don’t hate you.”

Melinda smiled and shook her head. Well, she thought, it was better than nothing.

The trees above rustled again, and Melinda swore she heard someone yelp. It went quiet quickly, and Mel put it out of her mind, content to cuddle will her baby girl for just a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make me happy, so does cake, but I'd prefer reviews than cake coming through my letterbox. :) xx


	19. Skye's Frightened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.....I'm so sorry..... (I'm not.)

_About thirty minutes earlier._

“I guarantee, that Tasha and I can do this without either of us dying.” Clint called from the top of Tony’s ten metre diving board. “We did it from the five metre board in D.C. Y’know, before they banned us.”

“Unlawfully.” Natasha added from a position Bobbi felt was dangerously close to the edge.

Bobbi grimaced from the edge of the diving pool, feet dangling into the water, a beer in her hand. “What about doing your insane diving acrobatics without either of you getting seriously maimed? Can you guarantee that?” She shouted back.

“Probably.” Nat called, already climbing up onto Clint’s shoulders.

“No.” Bobbi shouted up to them. “Don’t give me ‘probably’, give me ‘definitely’. As in ‘we _definitely_ won’t seriously injure ourselves doing this ridiculous acrobatic diving trick’.”

“They’ll be fine.” Hunter said far too casually from his perch on the lifeguard chair. He was supposed to be ‘minding’ Clint’s beer, but seemed to be sipping from both beers, one in each hand. “They’re professionals.”

“No, they’re not, Hunter.” Bobbi said. “They’re two stupid kids with not enough fear and far too much flexibility.”

“Come on, Bob.” Hunter grinned. He pointed to the two people arranging themselves on the edge of the ten metre platform with his beer, and sloshed some out of the bottle. “Remember when we used to be like that.”

She stared at him incredulously. “No.”

“That’s because we were wimps.” He licked some of the spilled beer off his wrist. “Bravest thing _we_ ever did was get married.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi mumbled, turning her attention back to her sister and her idiotic boyfriend. “I’m starting to regret it.” She had to look away again when Natasha lay her back flat against Clint’s, relying solely on his grip on her ankles to keep her situated on his shoulders.

“What was that, love?” Lance asked from his perch. For someone supposedly acting as the lifeguard, he was significantly over the acceptable sobriety level.

Bobbi couldn’t help but smile fondly at him. She teased, but she was pretty sure she’d never actually regret marrying that man. Marrying Lance Hunter was perhaps the best thing she’d _ever_ do in her life.

“Oh God.” She groaned when Nat sitting back up caught her eye and she saw Clint shuffling backwards to the edge of the platform. Natasha stretched her arms up into the air, gracefully perched atop Clint’s shoulders. Bobbi covered her eyes with her hands. “I can’t watch.”

“I’ll tell you when it’s over, love.”

“Thanks.” Bobbi replied dryly.

“Ready?” Clint called down.

Bobbi kept her hands over her eyes. “ _Please_ don’t hurt yourselves.”

Hunter whistled. “Let’s see it, then!”

As much as Bobbi was feeling sick at the thought of her sister and Clint back flipping from the top board, the sheer anticipation of their acrobatics was making her unbearably anxious. She glanced up to them with the intention of telling them just to get on with it because her nerves were too shot to cope, but before Bobbi could even open her mouth, Clint was diving himself and Nat off the edge.

“Bloody hell.” Hunter shouted, jumping off the lifeguard chair.

Bobbi watched in horror as her little sister and Clint spun through the air towards the water. Her hand gripped the edge of the pool. Clint and Nat separated about half way down, and Natasha hit the water feet first. Clint followed on top of her a split second later, his side taking the brunt of the fall.

Hunter ran over to Bobbi’s side and stared into the dark diving pool. “Shit.” He breathed, when a second went by and neither Clint nor Tasha emerged.

The diving pool was deep, deep enough that it was difficult to swim all the way to the bottom with one breath, and the sheer capacity of the water and dark navy tiles on the bottom, made it almost impossible to see deep into the pool.

Another second went by and the water on the surface of the pool began smoothing out. Bobbi reached up and grabbed Hunter’s hand.

“Fuck.” He said. “ _Fuck,_ Bob, I thought they’d be fine.” He dropped to his knees, beers forgotten, and inspected the water, squinting to see anything.

“Can you see them?” Bobbi tried to keep her feet still despite the panic, in order to not disturb Hunter’s view.

He paused for another second, and Bobbi was seriously considering ignoring the fact that she wasn’t a particularly strong swimmer, and diving into the pool herself.

“Lance.” She squeezed his hand. “I _knew_ this was stupid, I _knew-_ ,”

On the other side of the diving pool, Natasha broke through the calm water, laughing and spluttering, squealing when Clint popped up almost immediately after, throwing her across the pool. He flicked the wet hair out of his eyes, and swam over to Nat. She pushed his head under the water with a grin, and swam to Bobbi and Hunter.

“I won.” Nat said smugly, and pushed herself onto the side of the pool next to Bobbi. “No matter what he says.”

Bobbi stared at her. The sheer relief of seeing Tasha and Clint _not_ dead, was being quickly overwhelmed by her utter anger at the terror the two of them had caused her. The fact that Hunter was now laughing along with them, rather than sharing in her fury was also not helping matters.

Clint treaded water in the centre of the pool. “You’re a cheater, Tash.”

“Oh, shut up.” She smiled. “You’re just pissed because I won.”

“I thought you were dead.” Bobbi said quietly. Her heartbeat was still far too quick. She dropped her head into her hands. “Fuck, Tasha. When you guys didn’t come up, I thought….”

“We were racing to the bottom.” Clint said. He lay on his back. “Nat, you know the rules are always both hands on the bottom before you come back up.”

“I did!” Natasha argued, accidentally nudging Bobbi when her animated arm gestures got too wild. “I didn’t cheat.”

Bobbi looked up.

“Whatever.” Clint grinned. “Cheater.”

“I hate both of you.” Bobbi muttered. She grabbed Nat’s hand and held it to her chest. “Feel that?”

“Yeah.” Nat frowned. “Bobbi, your heart’s racing.”

“It’s ‘cause I’m in close proximity.” Lance said. “She can’t help it. I make her heart race.”

“Shut up.” Nat said.

“It’s _because,”_ Bobbi said, “you and your boyfriend like trying to give me heart attacks.”

Clint swam over and rested his chin on Natasha’s knees. “What did _we_ do?”

“You fell into the pool and then didn’t come up again.” Bobbi said and flicked his ear. “Forgive me for thinking you might have hurt yourselves and were slowly sinking to the bottom.”

Clint gave her a grin. “I forgive you.”

“Fuck you.” Bobbi said, but Clint’s smirk was making it difficult to remain mad at them. Sometimes they were just stupid kids, and maybe she was being a little uptight.

Natasha covered Clint’s mouth with her hand when he made a move to say something else. “I’m sorry we scared you.” Nat said. “But we knew what we were doing.”

“Didn’t look like it, love.” Lance smiled, sitting himself next to Bobbi. She leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “You two aren’t exactly Olympic level.”

Nat looked genuinely offended. “We were awesome.” Her hand was still over Clint’s mouth, but he nodded enthusiastically along with her words.

Hunter scoffed. “I’d give it a three out of ten, because you didn’t _actually_ die.”

“What would you know?” Nat huffed.

“Hey,” Lance argued, “I watched all of the diving. London twenty-twelve.” Hunter said proudly. “I know what I’m looking for.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and moved her hand from Clint’s mouth to run through his hair.

Bobbi leaned over and kissed her sister’s cheek. “I’m getting too old for your antics.”

Natasha bumped her shoulder. “I thought you were acting like you were fifteen today?”

“I was.” Bobbi quirked an eyebrow. “I would have reacted the same way when I was fifteen.”

Hunter walked his fingers over her bare stomach. “When I was fifteen, I was a right little shit.”

“For good reason.” Bobbi said. She stopped his wandering fingers and laced her own through them. Fifteen year old Lance Hunter had every right to act out. Bobbi was just lucky she’d had amazing parents. Teenage Lance hadn’t been so lucky.

“When I was fifteen,” Nat said, using both hands to spike Clint’s hair into a mohawk, “I met you.” She smiled at Clint. “Remember?”

“Of course.” He grinned and kissed her knee. “Best day of my life.”

“I punched you in the face that day.”

“Well, “ Clint shrugged, “I deserved it.”

“First day I met Bob she slapped me.” Lance said far too proudly. “Must be part of the charm, eh, Clint?”

“Yeah,” Nat smirked at Bobbi, “I’m sure that’s what that is.”

Bobbi grinned. “It’s definitely nothing to do with the fact that you were both immature dicks when we met you.”

“To be fair,” Clint said, “I _was_ sixteen. So I had every right to be immature.”

Bobbi turned to Hunter. “You were twenty-two. What’s your excuse?”

He wrapped both arms around her and nuzzled his face into her hair. “You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Still are.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“No.” Hunter smiled. “But I just wanted you to know that.”

Natasha and Clint were muttering to each other, but Bobbi ignored them in favour of her husband. She bumped her nose against Lance’s and he stuck his tongue out to lick it, making her giggle.

“You’re gross.” She laughed.

“Give over.” Lance grinned and dropped his voice. “You don’t complain when my tongue’s in your-,”

Bobbi kissed him to shut him up, blushing furiously. She kissed him again, gently this time, running the backs of her fingers over his stubble. “I love you, you know. I do.” She gave him another kiss, this one chaste but no less loving. “I hated you then, when we first met, but I love you now.”

Lance nipped her lip. “I loved from the second you cracked your hand against my cheek, darlin’. Think you knocked some sense into me.” He kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. “You’re going to get sick of me one of these days.”

Bobbi shook her head. “We’ve been together four years. If I haven’t left you yet, then I’m never going to leave you.” She pecked his jaw. “We’ll be together forever, you and me.”

“Yeah.” Hunter grinned. “Like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Posh and Becks.” Bobbi laughed.

“Romeo and Juliet.” Hunter said then grimaced. “Maybe not.”

“Clark Kent and Lois Lane.”

“Thelma and Louise.” Lance said. “I’d be Louise.”

“Oh, obviously.” Bobbi agreed. “What about, Sonny and Cher.”

Lance nodded. “Erm… Mario and Luigi?” He said uncertainly and Bobbi shook her head.

“You ruined it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Lance said. “But I’m half-cut so you’ll have to give me a break.”

Natasha tapped Bobbi on the shoulder and she turned to her sister. “You’re on.”

“What?” Bobbi said dumbly.

“We’re playing and go seek, and you’re on.” Nat said. “We’ll hide and you count to a hundred and then come find us.”

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “I’m aware of the rules. I was just wondering when it was decided that we were playing hide and go seek.”

“When you two were making heart eyes at each other.” Clint said. He climbed out of the pool and began drying himself off with a towel. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I love hide and seek.” Lance grinned. “There’s not _nearly_ enough opportunities to play hide and seek as an adult.”

“Fine.” Bobbi smirked. She’d do anything for her ridiculous husband.

Nat and Lance both jumped up and immediately ran over to where their clothes were, pulling them on over their damp bodies. Lance muttered to himself, struggling pulling his jeans over his wet legs.

“Okay,” Clint said when Nat was ready, “start counting!”

“No!” Hunter shouted, trying to put his head through the armhole of his t-shirt. “No, wait.”

“Ready?” Bobbi said. She watched Hunter navigate his shirt. “I’m going to start counting in…” She trailed off, now smirking as Lance tried and failed to put on his shoes. “…five….four….”

“Wait.” Hunter said.

“three…two…”

“Hang on, Bobbi.” Lance glared at his shoelaces. “ _Fuck._ ”

“One and a half…” Bobbi said, “come on, Teacup, hurry up.”

“Almost there.”

“One…”

Hunter gave her a thumbs up. “Ready, love.”

“Zero!” Bobbi shouted and put her hands over her eyes. “One, two, three…”

…

Lance had always loved hide and seek. Maybe it had something to do with his horrendous relationship with his stepdad and the fact that it had at some point in his childhood become a necessary skill rather than a game to play with his mates. Maybe Lance Hunter was just better at hiding than running. No, that couldn’t be it, Lance though to himself as he tore across Tony Stark’s lawn, Lance was an amazing runner. He’d had the trophy to prove it.

Competition was fun for Hunter, but it was competition and no matter how ‘fun’ it was to take part, he wanted to win. He wanted to be the best. Lance was determined to outlast Clint and Natasha in this children’s game. He _would_ hide from Bobbi for longer than they would, even if that perhaps meant bending the rules to his will a little.

Technically, there was nothing in the rulebook stopping him from going outside during their game. _Technically_ , there wasn’t even a rulebook to begin with, but Lance knew that there was usually an unspoken agreement to remain within certain boundaries, especially when they were playing in Tony Stark’s ten thousand square foot mansion. It probably wasn’t fair to Bobbi to extend their game to Tony’s many acres of land, too, but Hunter wanted to win their game of hide and seek, so he wasn’t playing completely fair.

It turned out, however, Lance’s plan to make full use of the grounds in the game was not really that great. Most of Tony’s land was flat plains of grass, oddly thrust on the outskirts of Chicago, and didn’t provide many hiding places. After wandering aimlessly for a while, Lance caught sight of the patch of trees they’d been playing spies with the kids in before, and made the split second decision to camp out and wait for Bobbi to find him there, up one of the trees, one of the high trees, while still feeling significant effects from the beers he’d consumed.

Even as Hunter began climbing the tree, he could admit that this was perhaps not one of his greatest ideas, but then he heard voices in the distance, panicked, and clambered up the branches regardless. A green streak marked his jeans from rubbing up against the lichen on the tree bark.

“That better come out.” He muttered to himself, hoisting his body up onto a more secure branch. “I like these jeans.”

Hunter muted his lonesome ramblings and held himself stock still when he caught sight of Skye walking through the trees below him. The little girl seemed to be inspecting the tree trunks, and as she sat herself below Hunter’s hiding place with Melinda, he silently begged the Gods to stop either of them looking up.

Apparently the Gods were not on Lance’s side though, because seconds after he had even had the thought, his arm slipped from the branch and the leaves around him rustled, making Melinda look up to the tree curiously. Lance closed his eyes, as if that would somehow conceal him, and waited to be called out, however, Skye began speaking and when he opened them again, Melinda was no longer paying the tree any mind.

Below him, mother and daughter continued their conversation. Hunter’s focus was really on not falling out of the tree and not being caught, so he wasn’t exactly listening to what they were saying. Leaves obscured most of his view, but he could just about make out Skye cuddled on Melinda’s lap and he found himself smiling at the two of them. It was lovely to see just how well Skye was adjusting to her new parents.

He stretched out on his stomach across the branch, grimacing when a sharp bit of bark poked into his ribs, and wrapped his limbs around to secure himself. From this angle, Lance could remain securely in the tree _and_ spy on Melinda and Skye.

Despite their previous game, Hunter was well aware that spying wasn’t necessarily a stand-up thing to do, but he was bored, drunk, and still determined to win hide and seek, so his judgment was slightly skewed. Plus, it was an eight year old talking to her mother, he was hardly going to hear anything interesting. They were talking quietly, but if Hunter strained, bits and pieces of the conversation reached his ears in the tree.

Most of Skye’s little body was obscured by the leaves, but Hunter could plainly see her hand resting on Melinda’s stomach.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” She asked innocently and Hunter almost fell off his branch.

Holy shit, he thought, then shook his head and began debating just _how_ drunk he was because there was no way he was either hearing things correctly, or putting two and two together properly. No way.

Skye said something else but he only caught the back end, hearing, “I don’t want the baby to die.”

_The baby_.

So maybe he was putting two and two together and getting four. Well then. When he had first climbed the bloody tree, Lance had not prepared himself for this new revelation. Mel was up the duff. Wow. And from the rest of the conversation Hunter managed to pick up, only Skye and Melinda knew.

Little did they know he was clinging onto the tree for dear life above their heads.

Skye was being adorable, like _super_ adorable and Hunter made the mental note to give her an extra cuddle at some point in the day for mentioning him in her spiel of family. The little girl was hugging Melinda sleepily sucking her thumb. God, she was cute, Hunter thought.

He hoped when he had kids they’d be as cute as Skye. Who was he kidding? Him and Bobbi? Their kids would be freaking _adorable_. They’d be like a combination of Skye and Lance’s little sister, and didn’t that thought just break his heart. His baby sister, back in England with his Mum and step-Dad. She should be with Hunter. He could take care of her better than anyone else could.

Dwelling on his baby sister turned out not to be one of the best things Hunter could have done in the tree, as his grip on the branch slackened in his lack of concentration and he slid to the side.

Lance yelped. A sound he would forever swear to never uttering.

It was fairly easy to regain his grip, but Lance’s main concern was the fact that Melinda glanced up again, and he stopped breathing. Lance was one of three people to know of Melinda’s pregnancy, and he wasn’t meant to be. He didn’t imagine she would be too happy to find out he was eavesdropping.

As it happened, Melinda didn’t dwell on the sound for too long and went back to hugging Skye. The two of them sat like that, wrapped up in each other a little longer, before Mel urged a sleepy Skye up, and they walked back to the house.

Once they were at a safe distance, Lance jumped out of the tree. His white shirt was now streaked with green to match his jeans but Hunter didn’t care.

Fuck hide and seek, he would turn this game on its head. He had to find Bobbi.

…

When she couldn’t find Hunter, nor Nat and Clint, Bobbi gave up and went to find the rest of her family instead. Given they weren’t hiding, it was significantly easier to find them hanging out in the kitchen, although her mother and Skye had apparently gone on a walkabout. The fact of the matter was, Bobbi would much rather play with the dog and tease her dad about his fear of the fluffy creature licking her to death, than scour the house for her drunk husband and her buzzed sister and her boyfriend.

“Dad,” She grinned, “look at him, he’s _so_ cute.” Bobbi beckoned Lucky over to where he was standing stiffly by the counter.

Her dad took another step back. “Bobbi, you’re grounded.”

She rolled her eyes and threw the dog’s toy back to Grant. Lucky bounded back over to him and Pepper. “Dad, I’m twenty-five. You can’t ground me.”

“I can try.” He muttered, and then frowned at her. “Why is your hair all wet?”

Bobbi kept a straight face. “No reason.”

“Where’s your husband? And your sister? _And_ Clint?” Phil asked.

She smiled at her father sweetly. “I love you, Dad.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, whatever. You’re not as subtle as you think you are.”

“Hey, you.” Tony grabbed Bobbi by the elbow and pulled her over to another corner of the kitchen, away from the suspicious attentions of her father.

“I have a name.” She smirked.

“Right, _Barbara_.” Tony yanked on her ponytail.

“I’d prefer ‘you’.”

“Thought so.” He smiled. “Where are the rest of the rebels?”

Bobbi shrugged. “There was an impromptu game of hide and go seek. I got bored, so they’re probably still hiding.”

Tony gave an exasperated sigh, but smirked at her as he walked back over to his son and girlfriend. Skye bounded in through the French doors and skipped over to Lucky and Grant, immediately taking her place in their game.

“Come and play, Bobbi.” Skye called.

Bobbi grinned. “Best invitation I’ve had all day.”

…

Talking to Skye had been more therapeutic than Melinda really wished to admit. She thought the little girl should start charging by the hour for her counselling services, because talking to her really did wonders for Mel’s state of mind. That was until they made their way back into Tony’s house and Skye ran off to play with the dog, and Melinda was left with Phil.

If she wasn’t so anxious, Mel would probably find his utter terror hilarious. Tony’s kitchen was massive and the kids and dog were all the way on the other side of the room, and Phil was still standing awkwardly in a position to flee if needed.

“Everything okay?” Phil asked, bravely taking his eyes away from Lucky. “You seemed to disappear with Skye.”

“Yeah.” She said flippantly. “We just had a little talk, that’s all.”

“About anything interesting?”

Melinda pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to lie to her husband, no matter his opinion on their situation. “Just about some things we needed to talk about.” Mel said, stumbling over her words. “Just some things.”

Phil frowned at her. “I know I’ve been asking this a lot recently, but are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

He was getting on her nerves. “Yes, Phil.” She snapped. “I’m fine.”

“It’s just,” he put a hand on her arm, “you’re looking a little pale.”

Melinda was about to tell him to quit worrying when the reasoning behind the pallor of her skin seemed to catch up with her, and an overwhelming wave of nausea caused her to grip the wall and close her eyes.

“Mel?”

She ignored Phil in favour of running into the hall and ducking into one of Tony’s bathrooms. There wasn’t enough in her stomach to constitute a thorough bout of vomiting, but Mel still found herself on her knees retching into the toilet.

There was a gentle knock on the bathroom door. “Mel?” Phil called. “Mel?”

The nausea passed quickly, leaving her feeling more exhausted than anything else, and Melinda stood up, flushing the toilet and washing her hands.

“Mel?” Phil knocked again. “You okay?”

Because Tony had some semblance of normality about him, his downstairs guest bathroom only had hand wash and lotion on the sink, and no toothpaste or toothbrushes she could use. There was however, a bowl of mints on the counter, so Mel gargled a few mouthfuls of water and popped a couple of the mints in her mouth to take away the taste of the last five minutes.

“I’m coming in, Mel.” Phil announced.

She let him, the door was unlocked anyway, and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet when he entered.

“I’m fine, Phil.”

“Please,” he said, closing the bathroom door, “just tell me what’s going on. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not.”

Phil sighed. “Something’s going on with you.”

Melinda looked down at her hands. She wasn’t one for caring about the upkeep of her nails, and she’d never been a biter, but the nail varnish she had quickly painted on a few days ago had been almost completely picked off. It was something she would reprimand her children for, like Bobbi with her sleeves or Nat chewing her lips, but she hadn’t even noticed she had been doing it. A wave of empathy for her daughters passed over her.

“Melinda?” Phil said more firmly, and she met his gaze.

“What, Philip?” It came out harsher than she had intended and the hurt on his face was soul destroying. It was the same feeling she’d felt when he’d said he didn’t want any more kids.

“Did I do something?” He asked quietly. “I’m sorry if I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Melinda didn’t want to tell him. She had to. She didn’t want to, because if she told him about the baby, and he told her again that he was against having another child…she was keeping this baby whether he wanted her to or not. Melinda had always thought that there was not a thing in this universe that would give her an excuse to leave Phil, but then she had met her children. Her children came even before her husband, no matter how much she adored him. The baby was no different.

If Phil said he didn’t want the baby, then Melinda would leave, and she’d take Skye with her.

Oh God, she _loved_ her husband. She didn’t want to have to make that decision.

“Why are you making me choose?” Mel hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Phil touched her hair. “Choose what?”

She closed her eyes as the tears began and shook her head. “You’re making this very difficult.”

“I have no idea what’s going on, Mel.” Phil said. “Please, I want to understand.”

_“We’ve got far too many kids already, around here.”_ He’d said. _“No more babies.”_

Melinda stood up. She could cope with a lot things but not this. She needed to get out.

“Mel?” Phil stepped aside and let her push past him. “Mel?” He followed her back into the kitchen.

“I can’t, Phil.” Melinda tried to explain. “Not right now, I just can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Phil held her elbow. He frowned. “What’s going on?”

“I, I just, I can’t talk about it. Not right now. I need to think.”

“Melinda.” Phil dropped his voice, glancing across the room at the kids and Tony and Pepper playing with the dog. “Please, tell me.”

She shook her head. “I have to go.” Melinda pulled away from Phil and wiped at her eyes. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself and crossed to room to reach Bobbi and Skye.

Bobbi smiled at her, then frowned, and Melinda ducked her head. “Mom?” Bobbi asked. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She lied to Bobbi. “But I don’t want Skye out too late, so I’m going to take her home now.”

Skye grumbled. “Do we have to go?”

“Yes.” Mel said to her. “Come on, honey. Say ‘goodbye’ to Grant.” While Skye said her goodbyes, Mel turned back to Bobbi. “You just come home when you want. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi said, still frowning. “Okay then.” She gave Melinda a tight hug. “I love you, Mom. Everything I said to you when we fought, I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

“I know, beautiful. I love you, too, Bob.” Mel said, pulling back. “I’m okay.” She tried to assure Bobbi.

In a blur of goodbyes and thanks, Melinda led Skye out to the car, got her strapped in and situated herself in the driver’s seat.

“Where’s Phil?” Skye asked curiously from the back seat. “Isn’t he coming home with us?”

“Not yet.” Mel reached back and squeezed her hand. “Just you and me for the minute.”

Skye nodded and when she started sucking her thumb, Mel let her. Even herself Melinda could feel the waves of uneasiness coming from her. There was no doubt in her mind that Skye was picking up on it.

“I love you.” She told her little girl, reluctantly taking her hand back.

Skye rubbed her nose with her fingers. “Love you.” She muttered.

Melinda was already reversing out of Tony’s driveway when the passenger door opened and Phil clambered in.

“What are you _doing_?” She hissed at him, more shocked than angry at his actions. “The car was _moving_.”

“We’re not leaving this,” he gestured between them, “like _this_.” He gestured again. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I want to.”

She gripped the steering wheel and glanced in the rear view mirror. Skye was watching the whole exchange with glassy eyes. Mel didn’t want to frighten her daughter.

As calmly as she could, Mel turned to Phil. “Get in the car.”

He got in, put on his seatbelt, and Melinda pulled away without a word.

…

Bobbi watched her father run after her Mom and pull the front door closed behind him. She sank down into one of the chairs by the kitchen table.

“What was that about?” Tony asked when Pepper took Grant and Lucky upstairs.

“No idea.” Bobbi said. “Something was up with Mom.”

Tony leaned against the counter. “Lover’s spat?”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “They never fight, though. Not really.”

“Mm.” He hummed. “Everyone fights sometimes. I wouldn’t worry.”

“You’re probably right.”

Tony smirked cockily. “I’m _always_ right.”

Bobbi shook her head. “Whatever.” She glanced over to the glass doors at the end of the kitchen and blinked, just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “What the hell?” She muttered as Lance stumbled into the kitchen, one shoe untied and his clothes stained green.

Tony sniggered. “Hide and go seek get out of hand, did it?”

Hunter walked over to the table and sat down on Bobbi’s lap. “Something like that.”

Bobbi inspected the green on his shirt. “Were you up a tree?”

“I was, love, yeah.” He said.

“Okay, then.” Bobbi smirked. “I guess now that you’re here, you can help me look for Clint and Nat.”

“Oh.” He said. “I thought hiding in a tree would be a winning idea. Suppose not.”

Tony slapped him on the back. “To be fair, your wife didn’t really make the effort to find any of you, so you just lost in terms of stamina and dedication to your hiding place.”

“I had dedication.” Lance argued. “I just had a shock while I was up there.”

“A shock?” Bobbi asked, poking him in his side.

He waved her off. “Not the time. Where’s the kids, then?”

“Mom and Dad were acting all weird.” Bobbi told him, wrapping both arms around his torso and resting her cheek on his back. “They took Skye home.”

“Weird, eh?”

“Yeah.” Bobbi kissed his shirt. “Come on, then, Teacup.” She patted his leg. “Let’s go find the acrobats.”

Tony grinned. “Yeah, _Teacup,_ go find them.”

Lance craned his neck to press a kiss to her forehead. She reached up to give him a proper kiss.

“I love you,” He smiled, “but, darlin’ that nickname always makes the lads take the piss out of me.”

She kissed him again. “Oh, you love it. My little English Teacup.”

Tony was wandering out of the room. “See you later, Teacup.”

“See.” Hunter whined. “I call you ‘Hell beast’, there’s no consequences.”

“Teacup?” Bobbi grinned.

“Yes, Hell beast, dearest?”

“You’re crushing me. Get off.” Bobbi shoved him onto the floor.

Hunter looked up at her and glared. “ _This_ is why you’re a bloody beast from Hell and I’m a delicate piece of china.”

Tony’s voice carried through the walls. “Ha! Teacup, you’re _so_ delicate and dainty.”

Lance groaned. “Does he have mics in here or something?”

“Yes.” Tony’s voice said again. “…Teacup.”

…

Usually, Skye didn’t mind car rides. Even though they could be boring, she liked to sit back and look out of the window, and half listen to Mommy and Phil’s conversations. It was nice. It was safe.

This car ride didn’t feel that that.

They were mad at each other, and Skye didn’t know why. She didn’t like it.

Melinda kept her eyes on the road the whole time and Phil just kept glaring at her from the passenger seat. He didn’t speak, but his lips were pressed together tightly and the way neither of them said a word to each other was making Skye’s tummy hurt. She sucked her thumb furiously and closed her eyes.

If she hadn’t left Mr. Snow at home, Skye would have held his paw and rubbed his white fur over her cheek. That always made her feel better. With her eyes closed, she could almost pretend he was there. Maybe he was strapped into the back seat like her, but on the other side of the car and that was why she couldn’t touch him.

With her eyes closed, Skye could almost imagine Mommy wasn’t mad at Phil, and that he wasn’t glaring at Mommy.

“Are we going to have a conversation about this, or just sit her in silence until we get home?” Phil broke Skye from her imaginings and she cautiously opened her eyes. “Melinda?”

“What?” Mommy snapped, and Skye jumped in her car seat. “Can’t you just leave it, Phil?”

“No I cannot, Melinda.” He waved his hands about. “We’re fighting, and I have no clue what we’re even fighting about.”

Skye shrank back in her seat. She wanted to be somewhere else. She closed her eyes. She wanted to be somewhere with trees to climb and bad guys to fight, and she would be Agent Skye who wasn’t scared of anything.

“Stop, Phil.” Mommy said.

“We _need_ to talk about this.” Phil said loudly. “Stop pretending we don’t.”

It was hard to imagine Agent Skye’s special place when real Skye was feeling frightened and everyone seemed to be shouting. There was nowhere to escape to inside the car.

“Philip, stop. Skye doesn’t need to hear this.”

That seemed to stop Phil for a moment. He was quiet, and when Skye opened her eyes, he was looking at her with a sad expression. Skye didn’t like that look. She didn’t want to see him sad. She turned to her window and looked out there instead at all of the cars going by.

“I get that you want to have this conversation somewhere more private, I do.” Phil sighed. “But what I _don’t_ understand is why you’re acting this way.”

Mommy laughed, but she didn’t sound happy. “In what way? What way, Phil? If you only knew what I was going through you’d see that this was a perfectly rational reaction.”

“I would, would I?” Phil’s voice was getting louder again and Skye dug her teeth into the base of her thumb. “Then tell me, Melinda. I need to know.”

Mommy took her eyes off the road to look at Phil, Skye watched in the reflection of her window.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to tell you. This is hard for me Phil.” Her voice was getting louder, too, almost shouting. “You just don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t understand.” Phil said to Mommy. “You’re being a crazy person.”

Mommy’s focus was still on Phil. “I have more to consider than just you, you know.” She wasn’t paying attention to the road. “I didn’t _ask_ for this.”

Phil wasn’t looking either. “Me neither. One second we’re fine, the next, God, I just don’t know what to think, Melinda.”

Skye took her thumb out of her mouth. Mommy was still driving, but she was shouting at Phil and he was shouting back. There were cars coming, and the lights were changing. They needed to stop soon.

“Mommy.” Skye said, but it came out too quietly and she didn’t hear her. “Mommy.”

They were still fighting, and lights were on red, but they were still moving forward and Phil shouted something really loud.

“Oh, oh, _that’s_ rich, Melinda.”

“Daddy, _stop_.”

He didn’t hear. They weren’t listening to her, and Skye couldn’t breathe.

She was scared.

Agent Skye wasn’t there. It was just Skye trapped inside of the car and she was terrified and they weren’t stopping and Mommy still wasn’t looking at the road.

Skye didn’t know what to do.

They weren’t listening.

The car wasn’t stopping.

It wasn’t stopping and Skye screamed and Phil and Mel turned back to her and then-

…

“They can’t be _this_ dedicated to hide and seek.” Lance grumbled. They had been looking for Clint and Nat for _ages,_ and although he was loath to admit it, Hunter was mostly pissed off that they were so good it, rather than just being bored of looking for them.

“I feel like we’ve looked everywhere.” Bobbi said, leading them down from the upstairs. “I mean, where else could they be?”

He shrugged. “Maybe they’re shagging in one of the bedrooms.”

She slapped his arm but he had already braced for it. “Hunter!” Bobbi scolded. “Anyway, you know they can’t be, we’ve checked all the bedrooms.”

“They wouldn’t just go home without telling us, right?”

“The car’s still here.” Bobbi said. “And they’re not stupid, they wouldn’t drink and drive.”

Lance rubbed his chin. “Yeah, you’re right. You could try ringing one of them again?”

They’d tried calling both Clint and Nat’s cell phones from upstairs with no luck, both phones just ringing out.

“They won’t answer if they’re _really_ this dedicated to the game.” She said, pulling out her phone. “But I’m getting genuinely concerned.”

Lance slid down the wall and lay on the floor while she called. The booze had well and truly worn off and now he was just tired and starving. Bobbi rolled her eyes at him but didn’t tell him to get up. She pressed the phone to her ear and started tapping her foot impatiently.

“No answer.” She said, and Lance reached out to stop her foot. “What’re you-,”

“Shush.” He said, and froze to the spot.

Bobbi was giving him a funny look but Hunter ignored her and listened carefully. He strained to hear, but the repetitive sound of Natasha’s terribly boring ringtone, was definitely there. He frowned and pressed his ear to the ground.

“Tony hasn’t got a basement…” He said, looking up to Bobbi. “I can hear Tash’s phone.” He tapped the floor. “Under here.”

Understanding flooded Bobbi’s face and she took off across the hall. Lance scrambled after her.

“Bob, where are you-,”

“Wine cellar.” She said shortly, then jogged ahead. “They’re in the freaking wine cellar.”

Hunter had only ever been in Tony Stark’s wine cellar once before. The reasoning behind this was that on the one occasion Tony had taken him down there, he had spotted a bottle of Macallan 1958 (and really, what was whiskey doing in a _wine_ cellar anyway?) and had proceeded to drink over half of it before Tony noticed and took it from him. From what Lance could remember, it was good whiskey, but it didn’t taste like it was worth five thousand dollars, no matter how often Tony told him.

Bobbi was already at the bottom of the stairs by the time Lance got there. She didn’t even look at him, just pointed in the direction of the plush couch where her sister and Clint were passed out. There was a single bottle of red, some dregs still in the bottom, on the table to the side.

Bobbi nudged him. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yeah.” Hunter grinned. “Bloody lightweights.”

He wasn’t prepared for _that_ particularslap, and he rubbed his arm grumpily. “This is spousal abuse.”

She pointed at the sleeping couple. “ _This_ is _child_ abuse.”

Hunter scoffed. “They’re not children.”

“They’re not old enough to drink.”

“They’re fine. In England we’d be having to drag them out of the pub four nights a week. Let them live a little.”

“I’m all for ‘living a little’”, she used air quotes, “but in case you’ve forgotten, we’re in America, they’re not exactly heavy drinkers, and if Tony thought it necessary to keep that wine down here, they’ve probably drank two thousand dollars worth of fermented grapes.”

“At least.”

Bobbi glared at him. “You’re not helping.”

“Not trying to, love.” He admitted. “Right, then.” Hunter clapped his hands and mimed rolling up his sleeves. “How we going to get them out?”

She rubbed her eyes. “We’ll have to call a cab and leave the cars here. We’ve all been drinking.”

“I was actually talking about in the short term. Like how we’re going to get them up the stairs.” He gave the steep steps a cursory glance. “Clint’s heavy.”

“Try and wake them. See just how drunk they are.” Bobbi shook her head. “I’m gonna call a cab and tell Tony we found them.”

Natasha was draped across Clint’s body on the couch, most of her face obscured by her hair, but Clint had lipstick on his neck and his fly was open so Hunter deduced they must have been adequately drunk before passing out. He eyed Clint’s open jeans and shuddered.

“I don’t want to touch them, Bob.” He said. “I think they’ve been engaging in amorous activities.”

Bobbi didn’t get to reply to him because her phone started ringing.

“Tell Tony to bring some disinfectant.” He grimaced and pretended not to notice where Clint’s hand was situated on Nat’s body.

“It’s not Tony.” Bobbi said. She frowned at the screen. “I don’t know who it is.”

He was about to tell her not to answer in case it was some cold caller asking about their life insurance preferences, when Bobbi picked up.

“Hello?” She paused. “Yes, that’s me.” Bobbi paused again and she looked over to Hunter, her face white. “What?” She whispered, her voice cracking, and he rushed to her side.

“Bob?”

She gripped his arm painfully. “Yeah, okay, yes.” Bobbi’s nails dug into his bicep, but Hunter just rubbed her back. She was shaking under his fingertips. “Thank you. Bye.”

“Bobbi? Love?”

The phone clattered to the stone floor of the cellar and she looked at him blankly. “There was an accident.”

His blood ran cold. “What?”

“Mom and Dad, and um, Skye.” She shuddered and gasped. “It’s bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind door* Review? Please? *ducks away again*


	20. Skye's Tiny Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Settle in, friends. It's a long one. I was going to split it up, but there just wasn't a natural gap in the chapter. Hope you enjoy!

At first, Skye wasn’t sure what was going on.

Grant had shown her his photographs in his room, and told her about his little brother. Thomas was dead.

Grant had been playing with Lucky.

Mommy and Daddy had been fighting.

Fighting in the car.

There had been a crash.

Skye blinked a few times, but it was difficult to concentrate, because her vision was fuzzy and she couldn’t really hear anything. Her head hurt. She couldn’t remember where she was.

She was in the car. Maybe. Yes. In the car.

Somebody was shouting, but it felt like it was very far away. Her arm hurt, too. She was so tired. So tired. So Skye closed her eyes again and went to sleep.

…

Her arm still hurt, and there was still shouting, but this time it was loud. The sound made Skye’s chest shiver and she tried to put her hands over her ears but there was a screaming pain in her left arm that took Skye’s breath away, so she just stayed still.

Skye’s vision was clearer this time.

She could remember this time. Remember everything, not just bits and pieces.

They were all still in the car, and Skye was in the back. The window on her left was smashed. There was blood on her hands, and Skye felt herself begin to cry because she didn’t know why there was blood. Her hands were stinging and her head was throbbing.

“Mommy?” She tried to call, but it came out cracked and rusty. “Mommy? Daddy?”

They didn’t answer.

“Hey,” someone shouted from outside the car, “the kid’s awake!”

The same woman reached through the broken window and put a hand on Skye’s shoulder. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

Skye ignored her. She wanted her Mommy.

“I know it’s scary,” the lady said, she was wearing a bright jacket and thick gloves, “but I’m a fire fighter. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Mommy?”

The fire woman’s face softened in a way that made Skye feel like she was going to throw up. “Can you tell me your name?”

“I want my Mommy.”

“I know, kid.”

The fire woman withdrew her hand and started talking to someone outside of the car. There was still a lot of shouting, and now there were sirens that pierced Skye’s ears and made her sore head pulse.

Skye couldn’t see Mommy. She had been in the driver’s seat in front of Skye, and now Skye could only see a wisp of dark hair, peeking out from between the backrest of the seat and the headrest. She wasn’t moving.

Neither was Daddy, and maybe that was scariest, because him, Skye could see. He had his head turned to the side, but his eyes were closed, and there was blood on his face, running down from his nose. His arm was all red, too. The airbag hung limply on his lap from the dash.

“Daddy?” Skye asked again. When he didn’t answer, she tried to reach out to him, but the excruciating pain in her arm returned with a vengeance, making Skye yell.

“Just stay still.” The fire fighter said. “It’s okay, just stay still.”

“Daddy.” The tears were streaming down Skye’s face now. “Daddy, wake up!” She was sobbing so hard, the tears were catching in her throat making it almost impossible to breathe. “I want my Mommy.”

Skye tried to stay still when the fire woman told her to, and even though she couldn’t stop crying, she tried to be brave and answer all of the questions the different people asked her through the broken window.

They wanted to know her name, her age, Mommy and Daddy’s names. They kept asking her about what happened, and Skye didn’t really know what to say so she just told them that she didn’t remember. It wasn’t good to lie, but Mommy and Daddy were hurt and Skye was frightened.

It seemed like a very long time until they managed to open her door, and some people from the ambulance lifted her out of the car.

“Mommy.” Skye sobbed. “I don’t want to leave my Mommy and Daddy.”

They stroked her hair and spoke in soothing tines to try and calm her down, but Skye was too far gone. She was terrified, and these people she didn’t know were taking her away from her Mommy and Daddy.

What was worse was that when they lifted her from the car, she was immediately placed on a hard board, with orange blocks on either side of her head, so that she could only see the sky and the people bending over her.

“Skye,” A man in green said, bending right over the board, “we’re going to take you in the ambulance now, okay?”

“Where’s my Mommy? And Daddy?”

“They’re coming, too, but they get to go in their own ambulances.”

Skye tried to sit up, to see if she could see either of her parents, but the man in green put a hand on her chest.

“No, no.” He said. “I know it’s scary, but you need to lay flat, just until we know you’re not hurt.”

She did as he said, and stayed still as she was lifted into the back of the vehicle. She wanted to tell him that she _was_ hurt. Skye could feel her hands stinging, and her head pounding, and when the board was placed down in the ambulance, her wrist _really_ hurt, but Skye stayed quiet.

“Hey,” the man in green said, hovering in front of her face, “you’re being very brave, Skye.”

Skye had to disagree. Agent Skye would never be this frightened.

“Are my Mommy and Daddy okay?”

Green man smiled. “We’re going to the hospital now, and once we get there, they’ll all do their very best to get you and you parents all fixed up.”

“But are they okay?”

He smiled. “What’s your favourite animal, Skye? Mine’s dogs.”

“Um,” Skye frowned, a little taken aback from the sudden change in topic, “polar bears.”

“Cool.” Man in green said. “They’re an awesome animal. Did you know their fur isn’t really white, it’s actually clear?”

“I did.” Skye said. “And I know you’re just trying to distract me.”

Man in green smiled sheepishly. “Was it working?”

“No.” Skye tried to turn her head and the man put two fingers on her forehead.

“Still. Remember?”

“I just want my Mommy. Is she okay?”

He sighed and gently stroked her hair. It didn’t feel the same as when Mommy did it.

“I can’t tell you, Skye. I really don’t know.” He touched her head again and Skye winced when it stung. “Sorry, honey. You’ve got a little cut on your head.”

“I want my Mommy and Daddy.”

“Skye, can you tell me if anywhere else hurts?”

She sniffled and tried to stop crying. The ambulance went over a bump and jostled Skye’s painful arm.

“My arm hurts.” Skye said quietly. “And my hands.”

The man in green left her field of vision for a few seconds. “Yeah, I think we need to get that wrist looked at.”

“It hurts pretty bad.”

“I bet it does.” The man said, returning to her sight. “I think you might be in the market for a cast, Skye.”

Skye frowned. “Huh?”

He smiled sympathetically and pressed some gauze to her head. Skye winced when the pressure made the cut sting.

“Sorry.” He said. “I think your wrist might be broken.”

“Oh.” The concept of a broken bone maybe should have been scarier than it felt, but Skye’s mind was still focused on her Mommy and Daddy. Her arm hurt, but Mommy and Daddy weren’t there, she didn’t know where they were, and that was all that mattered.

The sobs that had gradually dissipated during the course of her conversation with the man in green, returned in full force. Her arm was hurting and her head was hurting and Skye felt like she couldn’t breathe properly.

“I want my Mommy.” She cried. “Please get my Mommy.”

“Skye, Skye, can you calm down for me.”

“No.” She tried to sit up. “Where’s my Mommy and Daddy?”

The man in green began moving around the ambulance. “I know, it’s scary but you _need_ to stay still.”

Skye ignored him. She wanted her Mommy, and with the stupid blocks around her head, she couldn’t find her. She clawed at the tape that kept her head still.

“No, no, no.” The man brought her hands away from her face. “Calm down.”

She tried to push him away, but used her hurting arm and when Skye made contact with the man’s shoulder, the pain in her wrist started shrieking. She whimpered and pulled her arm away, cradling it to her chest.

“Okay, okay.” The man said. He did something to her good hand that made it sting for a second. “I’m giving you some special medicine to make you feel better, okay?”

Skye stopped struggling when the little pinch in her hand began itching, the feeling spreading up her arm.

“It’ll start working pretty quickly.” The man said. “Might start to make you feel a little sleepy, just let it work, Skye.”

“I want my Mommy.” Skye said. Her voice sounded far away and not like her own. “Where’s Mommy?”

…

After the needle in her arm in the back of the ambulance, things got a little fuzzy for Skye. It was difficult to keep her eyes open for any prolonged length of time, and even when she did find the energy to stay awake, the view of the world above her still head was sluggish and misty.

Skye was aware that they were out of the ambulance and inside of what she assumed was the hospital. White ceilings and people in multi coloured scrubs gave it away, but now that she was no longer in the back of the vehicle with the man in green, it was difficult to remember how exactly she had got there.

She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, the world seemed a little clearer, the noises around her a little easier to distinguish. Maybe it hadn’t been a blink, maybe Skye had been out a little longer than a fraction of a second.

Her arm didn’t really hurt much anymore, but now her head was aching and the lights in the room were shining brightly in her eyes. Skye tried to move her head, only to have someone grip her from behind.

“Stay still, Skye.” Someone said. A man. Not the man in green, he had a different voice. “Good girl.”

Skye wasn’t really sure how she was being good. She wasn’t doing anything, but if staying still was what they wanted, she could do that. She could be still, even though Skye wanted nothing more than to jump off the bed, rip away whatever blocks were keeping her head from moving, and run away to find her Mommy and Daddy.

Mommy and Daddy.

Of all the voices in the room, Skye couldn’t hear either of them. In fact, she couldn’t hear _anyone_ she recognised, not Bobbi or Nat, or Hunter or Clint, not even the man in green from the ambulance. Skye shuddered.

Out of her peripheral, Skye could see people moving around. It was too difficult to see what any of them were doing, but the fast-paced movement of the people was unnerving and made Skye want to cry. Maybe she wanted to cry because she was hurt, or maybe it was because she was worried about Mommy and Daddy. Maybe there were lots of reasons Skye wanted to cry.

So she did cry.

“Oh, none of that, Skye.” Someone Skye couldn’t see said. “We’re going to make you all better, so there’s no need to cry.” Her voice was odd, a little firm, almost like she was reprimanding Skye for getting upset, but it was comforting on a level Skye couldn’t really explain.

The woman sounded like she could be scary, like she might start to shout, but she seemed like she was in charge, so Skye tried her best to calm down and even though the tears still dripped into her hair, the wracking sobs calmed into shallow breaths.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” The same woman said. “Poor girl, she must be terrified. Parents?”

“Coming in soon.” A man said.

“Then let’s get her cleared as quick as we can, huh?”

“Yes, boss.” The man said. “CT?”

“As quick as you can.” The woman Skye had been listening to leaned over the bed, and Skye could finally put a face to the voice. “You okay, Skye?”

Skye tried to nod.

“Ah-ah.” The woman said, her long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but Skye could see streaks of bright red when she moved, brushing the shoulders of her blue uniform. “Stay still.”

“A lot of people have been telling me that.”

The woman smiled. “And yet, you insist on trying to move.”

Skye swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” The woman said. She touched the gauze on Skye’s head. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

The woman left the gauze and instead lifted a metal-backed chart into Skye’s field of vision. “I was wondering, Skye, is that your real name.”

“What?”

“It’s just, I tried to look up your medical records,” She put down the chart, “they’re the things that can tell me if you’ve ever been sick or hurt before, but I couldn’t find yours. I thought it was maybe because ‘Skye’ was a nickname.”

Skye closed her eyes for a second. She still felt sleepy. “I didn’t like my other name, so I changed it.”

“Oh? What’s your other name, then?”

Skye pouted and opened her eyes. “Mary Sue Poots.” She huffed. “Stupid name.”

The woman nodded, smirking. “You’re certainly a lady with determination, changing your own name.”

“Yep.” Skye didn’t know what ‘determination’ meant, but she agreed anyway. “Who’re you?”

“My name is Victoria Hand. I’m your doctor.”

“You’re pretty.” Skye said. She looked at the red streaks in Doctor Victoria’s hair. They reminded her of her Tasha.

The woman smiled. “Thank you. You’re very pretty, too.”

“Okay.” Skye kept her eyes on the red sections of hair as Doctor Victoria leaned right over her bed and began inspecting her head again. She briefly removed the gauze before replacing it.

“Not too bad. We can probably glue it.” The woman said. “Lucky girl. No stitches.”

“Glue what?” Skye asked, now a little too enthralled in the swirly blue pattern on the doctor’s lanyard. Her head still felt a little fuzzy.

“Well, you have a little cut on your head. But we can glue it and it’ll heal no problem.”

Skye frowned. The woman wore glasses, and when Skye focused she could see a dim reflection of her own face in the glass. She had a lot of dirt or something on her face.

“I don’t want glue on my face.” Skye said. “Are you sure you’re a doctor?”

“I am.” Victoria smiled.

Skye had never heard of a doctor gluing someone before. That sounded like something the kindergarteners would do at school. “Are you _sure_?”

This time the woman laughed. “I’m sure.” She lifted the card, which dangled from her lanyard. “See? Can you read what it says?”

There was a little photograph of the lady on the plastic card, then some words that were so long Skye had no hope of ever reading them when she was feeling well, never mind in her current muddled state. But in big bold letters, next to the photograph was the woman’s name.

“Doctor Victoria Hand.” Skye read slowly. “So you _are_ a doctor.”

“I am.” Victoria smiled. “Promise. I’m pretty new here, but I’ve been a doctor in other places for a very long time.”

“What other places?” Skye wanted to know.

“New York.” She said, “Los Angles, and until I moved here a couple of months ago, I was working in London.”

Skye perked up. “England?”

“Yes, clever girl.”

“My sister and her husband lived there.” Skye said. She pressed her lips together. Talking to Victoria had taken her mind of Mommy and Daddy, but now thinking about Bobbi and Hunter had renewed Skye’s separation anxiety. “I want my Mommy.” She said.

“I know.” Victoria held her good hand. “You’re being very brave.”

That was the second time someone had told her that today and Skye still didn’t feel like it.

The sound of someone approaching made Skye want to turn her head, but she kept still, just like Victoria had said.

“We can take her to CT.” The man said. “They’ve got a bed for her on the ward, too.”

“Fantastic.” Victoria said. She bent over Skye again, her red streaks almost glowing under the florescent lights. “We’re going to go somewhere we can take a photograph of your body, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay.” It didn’t sound too bad.

“Now, you just stay nice and still for me while you get wheeled down there.”

Skye gripped Victoria’s hand. “You’re coming?”

“Of course.” Victoria began walking alongside Skye’s bed when it started moving, still holding her hand. “I’m your doctor. I’m not going to leave you.”

“That’s a nice thing to say.” Skye said. “You’re not scary.”

Victoria chuckled. “Good to know.”

…

When Melinda opened her eyes, they were pulling Phil from the mangled car. She tried to reach out for him, but her limbs weren’t cooperating properly and there seemed to be a foggy film over her eyes.

Phil wasn’t moving. His eyes were closed and there seemed to be blood all over his face. She called his name over and over but he didn’t respond. The fire fighters told her to calm down.

Skye wasn’t there. Mel didn’t know where Skye was. They told her to calm down again and she tried to head-butt one of the paramedics, missing by a mile. The floor of the car felt like it was tipping back and forward, and her eyes wouldn’t focus on any one thing.

She was aware of being pulled from the car. They strapped her to a board and put her in the back of an ambulance.

Melinda threw up twice in the ambulance, and it was horrific because she couldn’t move her head, and the paramedics around her lifted the board and tilted it onto its side each time she retched. She cried.

Then she was in hospital.

The doctor told her Skye and Phil were alive. She asked if they were okay, but he just told her they were alive. Melinda didn’t feel relieved. She didn’t feel anything other than crippling guilt.

This was her fault. The crash. Her husband, her baby girl, oh God, her _baby._ She could have killed them all.

Then she was hurting.

Then Melinda was panicking. She screamed. It didn’t feel like her, but it had to be. She thrashed around on the bed until they gave her something and she started feeling weird, like she was dreaming.

They put her in a scanner, and she watched the dancing lights inside of the machine and she attempted to claw herself out of the dumb fog that was trapping her inside of her own mind. Whatever drugs they had doped her up on had stripped her of her agency.

The drugs made each event bleed into the next, so her memories became like one long montage of occurrences happening to someone who looked like her and sounded like her, but didn’t _feel_ like Mel. It was hard to explain, even to herself.

They asked if she knew she was pregnant and she was nodding and saying yes, and it still felt like a dream. The doctors and nurses were rushing around and moving her bed to another ward, and they were scanning her again, and then maybe she had a dream, and no one was really _telling_ her anything until Doctor Banner introduced himself and casually said-

“Baby’s fine.”

“It is?” Mel said quietly.

“Absolutely unharmed.” He smiled. “We’ll do another ultrasound a little later, and you can see your baby. When I did it before you were asleep.”

Mel frowned. She couldn’t remember falling asleep. “They gave me some drugs.”

“That was me.” Bruce said sheepishly. “You needed to be sedated to get the CT. But everything was fine. I mean, really, you’re okay. So is the baby.”

“Oh thank God.” Mel rubbed her eyes. The fog was clearing and her baby was okay. Melinda gripped the bed sheets. “My baby?”

Bruce frowned. “Is fine, like I said.”

“No, sorry, I meant Skye.”

“Oh, right. Your daughter.” He nodded. “From what I’ve heard from Doctor Hand, Skye’s been very brave. She has broken her wrist, though.”

Mel gasped. “Who’s with her? Phil?”

“Phil’s on the opposite ward to you.” Bruce said. “He’s still a little out of it. Skye’s with our best medical professionals, she’s okay.”

“She must be terrified.” Mel breathed. “I need to see her.”

Bruce frowned. “Skye’s in our paediatric unit. It’s on the other side of the hospital, I’m sorry, I can’t authorise you to take a trip there at the moment.”

“But I _need_ to be with her. I’m her mother.” Mel argued.

“I understand. I do. But you can’t go down there. She’ll be getting her wrist cast soon, but after that I can get someone to bring her up here to see you.”

Melinda nodded. She wanted her baby girl with her, but she wasn’t stupid, Melinda knew arguing with her doctor was pointless.

“Can I go and see Phil? You said he was just on the opposite ward.”

Bruce picked up her chart and ticked something off. “He’s not awake yet. He had even more drugs than you did, but I can take you to see him.”

“Please.” Mel smiled. “I just need to see he’s okay with my own eyes.”

…

Getting the CT scan was awful. It was an experience Skye never wanted to have to go through ever again. It had been scary, and she’d had to be really still, but worst of all, Doctor Victoria had had to leave the room with the rest of the people there, and Skye had been left all alone.

Skye missed Mommy a lot when she was in the scanner, and to be a good girl and stay still she closed her eyes and thought about cuddling in bed with Mommy and Daddy. She made up stories about Daddy and Captain America saving the world, and tried not to think about the scary noise the scanner was making. Skye just kept reminding herself that it was just taking pictures of her insides, nothing else, nothing scary. Agent Skye would never be scared.

As frightening and traumatic as being trapped in the small creepy space of the scanner had been, Skye was pleased to have been through it, if only because it meant that when Doctor Victoria looked at the pictures of Skye’s insides, she said that all the blocks around her head could be removed and that Skye could move around.

Doctor Victoria took the blocks away and helped Skye to sit up in the bed. “That feel better?”

Skye moved her head around experimentally. “Much better.”

“No pain?” Victoria asked.

Skye shook her head, shaking it for longer than necessary just because she now could. “Nope. Well, except my arm. And my head.”

“And we’re going to fix that right now.” Victoria said. “Right after we get your face cleaned up.”

Skye rubbed her eyes. Her hands had lots of little cuts on them that stung when she touched her face. “Can I see my Mommy and Daddy yet?”

Doctor Victoria patted her shoulder and began using damp cotton balls gently on Skye’s face. “Soon, honey. Let’s get you fixed up first, huh?”

“But they’re both okay?”

“They’re okay, Skye.” She wet another cotton ball and Skye spied the previous one, now a rusty colour. She began cleaning Skye’s hands. “I’ve spoken to the doctor taking care of them, and he assures me your parents are okay.”

Skye sighed. “I just wanna see them.”

“Well, the sooner we get you fixed up, the sooner you can visit them.” Victoria finished her cleaning and dumped the bloody waste in the trash.

Just then, a very tall, very large, blonde man with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, walked into the room and grinned widely at Skye. It was an odd thing, Skye thought, because the man was so huge it felt as though she should be scared of him, but his smile was so kind, that Skye kind of wanted to give him a hug. He was like a bear, and Skye liked bears.

“Greetings, Doctor Hand.” The blonde man boomed. He bowed at Doctor Victoria, which Skye thought was a bit bizarre. “I have been summoned here.” His voice seemed to echo off the dinosaur-covered walls in the little room.

“Yes, great.” Victoria smiled. “Thor, this is Skye. Skye this is Nurse Thor.”

Thor waved at Skye. “Hello, young one. I do believe you have been involved in an incident today.”

Skye nodded. Nurse Thor stepped into the room, pulling a metal cart behind him.

“That is truly unfortunate, and I can see that you are hurt, but I assure you, child that I will care for you and see that your recovery is hasty.” Nurse Thor pushed the cart to Skye’s bedside and began taking out supplies and lining them up on the top.

Skye watched him line up various medical items she didn’t really recognise. “You talk weird.”

Thor smiled at Victoria and turned back to Skye. “You would not be the first individual to have that sentiment.”

“Huh?”

Doctor Victoria laughed. “Everyone says he talks weird.”

“Oh.” Skye said.

“I hail from a place very far from these lands, and my idioms are unfamiliar to those from these parts.”

Skye blinked at him.

Thor smiled. “Yes, I do ‘speak weird’.”

“Listen, Skye.” Victoria said, “Will you be okay with Thor? I have a few calls I need to make.” The doctor scribbled something down on Skye’s chart and tucked the whole thing under her arm.

Doctor Victoria was the only one Skye liked around here. Everyone else just kept telling her either to stay still or that she was brave. She didn’t really want Doctor Victoria to leave.

“Do you have to go?”

Victoria smiled sympathetically. “I do. But how about this, you stay here with Thor and let him work his magic, and when I come back we’ll go see your Mom?”

Skye perked up. “Yes, please. I wanna go see Mommy.”

“Okay, then. I’ll come back and get you when I’m done with my calls, okay?”

Skye waved to Doctor Victoria as she left the room, leaving the door open a crack. Thor sat down on a wheelie stool that seemed far too small for his humongous stature and began inspecting Skye’s cut on her head.

“Young one,” he said gently, holding her head still with one massive hand, “you are to hold still while I clean and close this wound. Yes?”

“Yes.” Skye said. “I’ve had a lot of practice with holding still today.”

“I expect today has been fairly traumatic for you, child.” Thor wiped at the cut and Skye squeezed her eyes shut when it stung. “I do apologise.”

“S’okay.” Skye mumbled, even though it was really kind of hurting. “Once I had to get stitches and that was bad.” Skye had practically screamed the emergency room down when Mr and Mrs Baker’s son had stood on Skye’s thigh in his cleats and caused a gash in need of eight stitches. “Doctor Victoria says I don’t need stitches, right?”

“You do not.” Thor said. He picked up a little clear tube and snipped the end off. “This is what will bind your wound. It will sting, but it will be over quickly.”

Skye frowned. “Okay.” She said unsurely. “It’ll only hurt a little?”

Thor leaned over her and before Skye could even process it, her head stung badly for a second, before the pain dissipated and Nurse Thor bat back in his stool. “Just a little?”

Skye reached up and Thor caught her hand. “Do not touch, I will leave it to dry for a second and then dress it. You reacted valiantly my young one.”

“That’s it?” Skye smiled. “It’s over?” Thor nodded. “That wasn’t bad at all.”

Thor grinned at her. “Ah, that must be because you are a warrior, Skye. You do not succumb to pain.”

He dressed the cut quickly with a large band aid and admired his work for a second. “All finished.”

Thor washed his hands in the sink on the wall. Careful not to move her bad arm, Skye turned to him. “I’m not a warrior.”

“No? You seem worthy of the status to me.” He said, drying his hands and putting on another pair of gloves.

“I’m a spy. A secret agent.” She declared proudly. “Me and my best friend fight the bad guys together.”

Thor sat back down. “That does sound marvellous.” He gently took Skye’s sore arm, being so careful with her wrist that it barely even hurt when he moved it. “I will try my absolute best to rid you of your painful wrist, Agent, but I do apologise in advance for any discomfort I may cause you over the course of my casting your arm.”

“Okay.” Skye said. “Do I get to have a colourful cast?” Once in her old school one of the boys had a green one when he broke his ankle, and all the kids in the class had signed it. Skye hadn’t wanted to, she had only been in that class a few days at the time, but she watched the others scribble their names and draw funny pictures on it.

Thor opened a drawer in his cart revealing a range of weird bandages in various colours. “These are your options, Agent.” He said. “Make a good choice, you will be sporting the colour for the next four to six weeks.”

“That’s a pretty long time.” Skye frowned, eyes darting from the bright yellow to the dark blue.

“It is unfortunate that you will be unable to have full use of your left arm for such a long period, but it will go far more quickly if you have an excellently coloured cast.”

Skye looked up at Thor, he was smiling at her brightly. “Which one’s your favourite, Thor?”

He looked at the drawer of colours. “I am partial to the red, myself, but you must not be influenced by my choices, young Agent.”

There was really too much choice for Skye. Thor’s cart seemed to have every colour for her cast imaginable, and if the thing needed to be on for over a month, well, Skye had to made sure she picked the right colour.

“This one’s the same as my bedroom walls.” Skye said, pointing at the sky blue in the drawer with her good arm. “I’d like to match my bedroom.”

Thor opened an even bigger drawer on the bottom of the cart filled with lots of the bandages. “Sky blue for Skye? I think it is perfectly fitting, young Agent.”

Skye beamed. “Sky for Skye. Yeah. I like the blue one.”

“Agent Skye, you are truly a child with great taste.”

Skye nodded. “Yeah, I know.” She smiled at him. “Hey, Thor, have you ever heard of Captain America? Let me tell you all about him.”

…

Melinda felt ridiculous being wheeled across the corridor to the ward Phil was situated in. She had already told Doctor Banner that she was perfectly capable of walking, even if she wasn’t too sure of it herself, but he just rolled his eyes and told her to get in the wheelchair.

“I know you don’t like the chair-,” Banner said.

“I _hate_ it.”

“-but we gave you a lot of sedatives. I’m not confident you won’t just keel over at any time.”

Melinda turned to look up at him. “You know, for a doctor, you’re really not that comforting.”

He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m trying. I used to be a scientist, a very unsociable scientist, and the habits from that time seem to pop up every now and again.”

“You did save my life.” Mel said, turning back to face forward. “I forgive you.”

Banner scoffed. “I didn’t save your life, really. I made sure you weren’t injured enough to die.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “Take the compliment, Doctor Banner.”

“Right.” He said awkwardly, pushing open another door and wheeling her inside. “Thanks.”

Bruce pulled back a curtain, and behind it, Phil lay asleep in the hospital bed, propped up and drooling onto his shoulder. The blood that had covered him in the car was all gone, and apart from the dressing on his arm and the manifesting bruises around his eyes, Phil could have just been sleeping in their bed at home.

“He really is okay.” Melinda said quietly. She reached out and took his hand, lifting it to rub his knuckles on her cheek.

“He’s got some broken ribs that are going to take a little while to heal, a burn on his arm, but he’s okay.” Bruce said, checking the monitors hooked up to Phil. “He’s a pretty fit man for his age.”

“He jogs.” Mel smirked.

Doctor Banner checked Phil’s chart, and apparently satisfied, clipped it back onto the end of the bed. His pager beeped and he frowned at the device. “I’m going to leave you alone with your husband for a few minutes while I deal with something. I’ll be back.” Banner pulled the curtain closed after him, leaving Mel and Phil alone.

She got out of the wheelchair on shaking legs and perched on the edge of Phil’s bed. “I’m so sorry.” Melinda whispered, combing her fingers through his thinning hair. “I am so, so sorry, Phil.”

“This is all my fault, Phil.” Melinda’s breath caught in her throat. “Phil, I could have killed you. I could have killed Skye, I-,” She cut herself off when the tears began making an appearance. Mel’s voice dropped. “I should have just told you.”

She pulled her hand away from Phil to irritably run it through her own hair. Her fingers caught mid way down, snagging on the knots. “This was all my fault.”

Melinda sat quietly with Phil for a little while, holding his hand and running her fingers softly over the forming black eyes. He snored loudly and she smiled briefly before remembering why he was passed out.

The crash had been all her doing. _She_ was the one who started the fight, _she_ had put Skye in the car, _she_ had been at the wheel, _she_ hadn’t been paying attention. Melinda had emerged from the accident practically unscathed. It was a miracle, one she didn’t deserve.

Doctor Banner pulled back the curtain and stepped back into the cubicle. He smiled at Melinda be it seemed forced. “I should probably take you back to your bed.” He said. “Phil will be fine.”

Melinda kissed Phil’s brow and pecked his lips. She wiped away the little line of drool on his cheek. Banner helped her back into the wheelchair and whisked her off the ward.

“I’ve spoken to Doctor Hand,” Banner said, “that’s Skye’s doctor. She’s happy to bring Skye to see you if you’d like.”

“Yes.” Mel said quickly. “Please, yes.”

Bruce nodded. “I told Vic to bring her up once she’d done with her cast.” He pushed Mel back into her room.

“Thank you.” Melinda smiled. “Skye’s not used to being without one of us, or one of her sisters. She doesn’t like being alone.”

Doctor Banner attempted to help Mel back into bed but she waved him off and climbed in herself. He sighed and glanced at his feet. “Doctor Hand wanted me to tell you,” he looked back up at Mel, “she’s got a few things to discuss with you.”

Melinda frowned. “Sorry?”

“I’m not Skye’s doctor and I can’t really disclose anything that I really don’t know much about, but Vic, um, Doctor Hand,” Bruce stumbled over his words, “she needs to talk to you about Skye.”

“What about Skye?” Melinda sat up in bed. “Tell me. Skye’s my _daughter_ , you have to tell me.”

Doctor Banner’s face softened. “But she’s not though, is she?” He said quietly. “Not really.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Skye is my daughter.”

He sighed. “Foster daughter.” Bruce Banner rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, you need to discuss this with Doctor Hand when she gets here.” He stumbled out of the room. “I have other patients.”

“Wait.” Mel called after him. “Are you going to see Phil?”

“I will be.”

“Don’t tell him.” Melinda begged. “When he wakes up, please, don’t tell him about the baby.”

Banner’s eyebrows went up. “So, he doesn’t know?”

“No. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell him.”

Bruce nodded professionally. “Understood. He’ll want to see you when he wakes up, should I come get you?”

Melinda thought about Skye’s broken wrist, about Phil’s broken ribs. All of it, her fault.

“No.” She said. “I just want to be alone for a while. Well, alone with Skye.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him when he wakes up.” Doctor Banner said, and left Mel’s room, leaving her alone with nothing more than the crippling guilt standing heavily on her chest.

She pressed a hand to her belly. The tiny curve she had been ignoring for far too long, seemed frighteningly prominent under her knowing fingers. “I’m so sorry.” Melinda told the baby. “You deserve so much better than me.”

…

When Phil Coulson was nine, his father had been working on his beloved 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, Lola, as Phil watched quietly from the back of the garage. It had been raining outside, so young Philip and his father had been forced to work in the gloomy garage rather than their usual place on the driveway.

One day, his father said, Phil was going to be old enough to drive, and then he could have Lola. Young Phil couldn’t wait.

Phil’s Dad, Robert, was leaning over the open hood of Lola. He wasn’t really doing anything, that’s what Phil’ Mom said, that Robert was just ‘tinkering’, but Phil still liked to watch. Sometimes, if he was really good, and if his Dad was in a particularly good mood, he let Phil sit in Lola while he worked. Phil didn’t like to ask, though, because sometimes his dad could be a bit grumpy, and if he asked to sit in Lola, Dad might shout at Phil.

Dad was never mean, but sometimes when he shouting it made Phil feel upset. Mom said Dad sometimes shouted because he was stressed at work. Phil decided that even if he had the world’s most stressful job when he grew up, he would never shout at his children for nothing.

“Dad?” Phil had asked on that night.

“Yeah?” His Dad had replied, standing up and wiping off his hands on a greasy cloth.

“Do you love me?”

Robert had looked surprised for a second, but then he threw the cloth on the ground and the look was gone. “Sure I do, son.” He had ruffled Phil’s hair. “Why do you ask?”

Young Phil had shrugged. “Was just wondering.” Phil had been thinking about it for a while. His Dad was great. But sometimes Phil wondered if his Dad loved him, or just put up with him. His Dad could be very serious and it was hard to tell. Mom tucked Phil into bed every night and said she loved him, but Dad didn’t say it.

“I love you, Dad.” Phil had said.

Robert had clapped him on the shoulder and lit up a cigarette. “Be a good boy and pick up this stuff.” He had nodded down at the various tools and cloths he had been using on Lola, before going back into the house to ask how long until dinner.

Philip Coulson’s father had died that night. Pulmonary embolism. A blood clot in the pulmonary artery that cut off the blood flow to his lungs. Robert had died in his sleep, and Phil had been awoken a few hours after being put to bed by his mother’s screams. There had been an ambulance, but Dad had never come home.

Young Phil decided that he would never shout at his children for no reason. That he would always tell them he loved them. And that he would always come home.

“You’re a lucky man.” A doctor said as Phil opened his eyes. The dark haired man looked him up and down. “Very lucky.”

Phil blinked a couple of times and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. He felt sick, like he might puke, but the wave of nausea passed leaving a dull ache in his chest. The doctor was scribbling something down on a chart, and Phil glanced around the room.

He was in hospital, sitting up in a bed with a curtain pulled around the cubicle. Phil grimaced at the IV in his arm and tried to inspect what was being fed to him through the drip.

“Just to keep you hydrated and keep the pain manageable.” The doctor said of the IV. “How is the pain at the minute?”

“Um,” Phil swallowed past the dry mouth he was suffering, “okay, I guess.”

“Here.” The doctor passed him a cup of water and Phil sipped it through the straw. When he drank half the cup, the doctor took it away and placed it on a nearby table. “Doctor Bruce Banner.” The doctor said and held out his hand.

Phil took it and they shook. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you, Phil, again.” Bruce smiled. “Nice to hear you when you’re lucid.”

Phil frowned. He couldn’t remember ever having spoken to Doctor Banner before, and he was about to say so when flashes of images assaulted his mind, and the memories of the crash came back with frightening clarity.

“Mel.” Phil said. “Skye. Where are they? My wife?”

Bruce held up his hands. “They’re both okay. Don’t panic, they’re both okay.”

Phil sighed heavily in relief and his chest burned. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, four broken ribs.” Bruce said. “I’ve actually already explained this to you twice already, but I take it you can’t remember that?”

“No.” Phil frowned. “I can’t.” That was worrying.

Doctor Banner smiled kindly. “It’s not usual for someone to have some memory loss when trauma is involved, as it happens, it think yours’ may be down to the cocktail of drugs we pumped into you when you were in the ambulance and in the ER.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Not too long.” Bruce said. “Not in the grand scheme of things. About four hours, four and a half.”

“Oh.” Phil sighed. “So, broken ribs?”

“Yeah. That and a bit of a burn on your arm, but that’s the price of airbags saving your life. Expect a couple of black eyes, too.” Bruce shook his head. “You were in a bad accident, Mr Coulson. Four broken ribs and some pretty bad bruising, but that’s about it. Lucky guy.”

“My wife and daughter?” Phil asked. He needed to see them.

“Melinda is okay, she’s, well, she’s had a hard time, but she’s okay. She’s on the other ward, resting.”

“But she’s fine, right?”

Bruce smiled. “She’ll be okay.” He said quietly. “She’s been in to see you, but she said she wants to be alone for a little while.”

Phil frowned. He wanted to see Melinda with his own eyes, to make sure she was fine, but she didn’t even want to see him. She must be okay if she had been in to see him, though, Phil thought. She must hate him. It was his fault that the accident even happened, he had started their fight, prolonged it into the car. The accident had been because of him, and Mel and Skye had suffered.

“Skye?” Phil said quickly. “Is she okay?”

Bruce nodded. “I haven’t met Skye, but my colleague has been taking good care of her. I’ve been hearing good things from her about Skye.”

He smiled broadly. “Skye’s amazing. And she’s okay, too.”

“Cuts and bruises, broken wrist, but she’s been keeping our nurses entertained with stories of Captain America.”

“Yep,” Phil smiled, “that’s my Skye.”

…

The walls in the rest of the hospital in comparison to the children’s ward were really boring. There were no dinosaurs on the walls here, no brightly coloured chairs, or bed sheets. In fact, the most colourful thing in the hallway Doctor Victoria was leading Skye down, was Skye herself, decked out in the patterned hospital pyjamas and her blue cast.

“Almost there.” Doctor Victoria said.

“Is my Daddy going to be there?” Skye asked. “I want to see him, too.”

“Your Daddy is on a different ward, but he’s okay. I promise.”

Skye nodded. “That’s good.” It had been scary seeing Daddy in the car. It made Skye feel sick and her back prickle when she thought about it. She looked down at the multi-coloured stars adorning the hospital jammies. They were a little too big and the socks they had given Skye to wear didn’t match the colours of the stars, but she didn’t mind.

Skye held Victoria’s hand with her good arm. “Doctor Victoria?”

She looked down at her. “Yes, Skye?”

“Do you have a nickname?” Skye smiled at her. “My sisters have nicknames.”

“They do?”

“Uh-huh.” Skye nodded. “And my sister Nat calls me malyutka _._ It means ‘little one’ in Russian.”

“That’s certainly interesting.”

“Do you have a name like that?”

Doctor Victoria looked back up at where they were going. She smiled at a nurse passing by. “My friends call me ‘Vic’.”

“Vic.” Skye repeated. “I like that, Doctor Vic.”

They walked hand in hand along more corridors than Tony Stark’s house even had, and they even took a ride in the elevator before they reached Mommy’s room. The door was open a little when they got there, and Skye stood outside for a moment, feeling unusually nervous to see Mommy.

“Go ahead.” Doctor Vic gave her a gentle nudge, and Skye pushed open the door.

Any nerves Skye had, disappeared the moment her eyes landed on her Mommy. Skye rushed into the room and flung herself into Melinda’s arms with a complete disregard for her own injuries.

“Mommy!” She grinned, wrapping her arms around Melinda best she could while still standing on the floor. “Mommy, you’re okay. Vic said you were okay, but now I can see you and you _are_ okay.”

Mommy smiled and held Skye tightly. She didn’t say anything, but she reached over and lifted Skye onto the bed to sit on her lap. Mommy kissed her head over and over again, rubbing Skye’s back and uttering things she couldn’t quite hear.

“Mommy, I missed you.” Skye said into her chest. “Please don’t leave me.” She knew it hadn’t been Mommy’s fault that they had been separated, but Skye had resolved to never leave Melinda again, now that they had reunited. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am.” Mommy said. She kissed Skye again. “My baby, I am so sorry.”

Skye held Mommy’s face between her hands, just to make sure she was actually alright. It was a little difficult with her casted wrist, but she managed it. “Why are you sorry?”

Mommy touched her cast and looked at the band aid on her head. “You got hurt.” She said quietly.

“M’okay.” Skye said. Mommy looked really upset so Skye gave her a kiss. “I promise. I’m okay, Mommy. Look,” Skye held out her cast, “it matches my bedroom.”

“It does.” Mommy smiled. “But I wish I hadn’t let you get hurt, baby.”

Skye frowned. “You didn’t do anything.” She said. “It was the car. Not you.”

“I was driving.”

“But it was an accident.” Skye said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Mommy hugged her tightly and Skye let her head rest on her chest.

Someone behind Skye cleared their throat and she turned to see a man standing next to Doctor Vic. He smiled at Skye.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” The man asked.

“No.” Doctor Victoria said, and Skye wanted to butt-in say that ‘yes, actually you are interrupting’ to the man, because she was hugging her Mommy and he didn’t need to be there, but she stayed quiet and snuggled into Mommy. “We haven’t had a chance to speak yet.” Vic said.

Mommy’s arms tightened around Skye. “Doctor Banner said you wanted to talk to me.” She said.

“Yes, I do need to speak with you.” Doctor Vic said. She glanced at the man, then back to Skye. “It can wait, though. If Doctor Banner needs to examine you.”

The man, Doctor Banner, nodded. “I was going to give you that scan, Melinda. But I can come back later, if you would prefer.”

“No, no.” Mommy said. “I’d like Skye to see.”

“Okay then,” Doctor Banner said, “let’s get started.”

Skye watched quietly as Doctor Banner began pulling various pieces of equipment over to the bed. Mommy kept her arms tight around Skye. Doctor Vic watched from the corner of the room.

“What’s that for?” Skye asked, pointing to the screen by the bed.

Doctor Vic answered. “That’s so we can see the baby in your Mommy’s belly. It’s for the scan.”

“I had a scan.” Skye told Mommy. She still looked sad and Skye wanted to cheer her up. She didn’t really know how, but Mommy usually smiled when Skye was talking to her. Skye wanted to make Mommy smile. “I had to stay really still in the scanner, and it didn’t look like that.” She nodded at the screen.

Mommy didn’t smile. She frowned. “You needed to have a CT?”

“I dunno what it’s called.”

“It was just a precaution.” Doctor Vic said. “Protocol. Skye was fine.”

Mommy stroked her hair. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Skye.”

Skye couldn’t really understand why Mommy kept saying she was sorry. The scanner had been scary, but that hadn’t been Mommy’s fault. If Skye was going to be mad at anyone for her time in the scanner, it would be Doctor Vic, but Skye didn’t really blame her either.

“You know,” Doctor Banner said, “your Mommy had one of these scans, too.”

Skye craned her neck to look at her Mommy. “You did? Did you think it was scary?”

“I did.” Mommy said. “I bet you were very brave, Skye.” She smiled then. “You’re always so brave.”

Skye blushed. “Not always.”

“You were very brave today, Skye.” Doctor Vic said.

“Skye,” Doctor Banner said, “do you think you could scoot over on the bed? I need to get to you Mommy’s belly.”

Mommy shifted to the side and let Skye get comfortable on the other side of the bed. Doctor Banner lifted Mommy’s shirt, and Skye watched, enthralled, as he squirted some weird gel on her tummy and began rubbing something attached to the cart the screen was on, over her stomach. Doctor Vic switched off the lights and Skye held Mommy’s hand to make her feel better.

Everyone was watching the screen, so Skye watched it, too. She couldn’t really work out what exactly she was meant to be seeing, though. It was just a dark, grainy image on the screen with lots of wobbly lines.

Doctor Banner pointed to something grey. “Right there.” He said, smiling. “You see it?”

“Yeah.” Mommy said so quietly Skye barely heard her. “Oh my God.” Mommy was gripping Skye’s hand pretty hard as she looked at the screen. “That’s incredible.”

“What’s that, Mommy?” Skye asked eventually, when it seemed unlikely that anyone was going to tell her.

Mommy was crying when she turned to Skye, but she was smiling bigger than ever. Happy tears. Skye had never been so happy that she had cried. It just seemed weird. When you were happy, you smiled, and when you were sad, you cried. But Mommy was doing both.

“You see there, where Doctor Banner is pointing?” Mommy asked. She rubbed her fingers over the top of Skye’s hand.

“Um, yeah.” Skye said. “But what is it?” It still looked like nothing.

“Baby,” Mommy said, then chuckled, “that’s the _baby_.”

“Huh?” Skye stared dumbly at the screen. “That’s not a baby.”

“It is.” Mommy laughed. “I know it looks a little odd, but that’s the baby in my belly.”

Even when she squinted and tilted her head to the side, Skye _still_ couldn’t see the baby, just a, well, a greyish blob. “Where?”

Doctor Banner moved his finger on the screen. “The baby’s lying on its back, see? Here’s the head, and there’s its nose.”

"The pointy bit is the baby’s nose?” Skye asked quietly. He nodded. The longer Skye stared, the more she could see it. The head, the nose, the tummy, even the minuscule indentation of the baby’s mouth. It was all there. So tiny because it could fit in Mommy’s tummy, but it was a baby. A proper baby.

“That’s our baby.” Skye said. “Mommy, I can see it.”

“Yeah.” Mommy grinned at her. “Can you believe it?”

“Of course I can.” Skye said. “I can see it right there on the screen.”

Doctor Vic laughed. “You want to hear the baby, Skye?”

Skye frowned and turned to her. “It can’t talk.” She said.

Vic smirked. “I know, but Doctor Banner can let you listen to the baby’s heartbeat.”

“Our baby has a heartbeat?” Skye asked. It was such a tiny baby, and she could barely fathom how small the heart must have been to fit in such a small body.

“You want to hear?” Doctor Banner said.

“Yes.” Mommy said. “I want to hear it.”

Skye nodded, too.

Doctor Banner did something on his screen, moved the thing on Mommy’s tummy around, and then there was the sound. Faint at first, but with a turn of one of the knobs on the cart, it sounded loudly through the hospital room.

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

Skye placed a hand over her chest and pressed hard.

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

“It’s like mine.” Skye said, then moved her hand to Mommy’s chest. “And yours’, too.”

“It’s a very strong heartbeat.” Doctor Banner said. “Like I said before, everything is fine.” He took the thing off Mommy’s tummy and the sound of the baby’s heart stopped.

Skye wanted to listen to it forever. As long as the baby’s heart was beating, Skye knew that the baby was safe. It was so tiny, and its heart was so small, but having heard the baby, _seen_ the baby, Skye knew it was strong. She was going to make sure her baby was safe and strong and protected.

Doctor Vic turned the lights back on, and Skye blinked against the brightness. Doctor Banner was putting away the screen and things, and Mommy was wiping the gel from her tummy. Skye took some paper towel of her own from the cart and helped. When Mommy’s tummy was clean, Skye scooted down the bed, and pressed her ear against the bare skin of Mommy’s belly.

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

_Thump-thump._

“I can hear the baby’s heart.” She said. “Hi, baby.”

Mommy smiled and ran her fingers through Skye’s hair. “I think that’s my heart you can hear, Skye. The baby’s pretty deep in there.”

“Oh.” Skye said. “So the baby can’t hear me, either?”

“No, the baby can hear you.” Doctor Banner said. “That’s why when the baby’s born, it’s often soothed by voices it hears often when in the womb.”

“What’s a womb?”

“It’s probably a conversation for another day.” Doctor Vic said.

Skye shrugged. “Okay then.” She pressed a kiss to Mommy’s tummy. “I hope you can hear me.” She mumbled. “I love you, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

When she sat up, Mommy was crying again. Happy tears. Skye pulled down her shirt for her and snuggled into her side. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, Skye.” Mommy nuzzled her hair. “So much, I love you _so_ much, little girl.”

“When can I go and see Daddy?” Skye looked up to her Mommy. “I wanna see him.”

“Soon.” Mommy said. She kissed Skye’s hair. “And we can tell him about the baby, yeah?”

“Yes.” Skye grinned. She couldn’t wait for her Daddy to know about the baby, then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore and she could tell him about the baby’s tiny nose and tummy, and how she had heard its heart beating and it sounded just like her own felt. “Can we tell Daddy soon?”

“Really soon.”

Doctor Vic and Doctor Banner were still putting away the scanning equipment when there was a knock at the door.

“Who’s that?” Skye asked, sitting up. “Is it my Daddy?”

Vic frowned at Doctor banner. He cocked an eyebrow at her and she nodded.

“I’m so sorry.” Vic said to Mommy. “I wanted to talk with you first, but when I accessed Skye’s records and found out she was fostered, I had to. That’s why we had to turn away any relatives that tried to visit any of you.” Doctor Vic shook her head. “It’s my duty. I’m required to report it.”

Skye looked over at Mommy. She was glaring at Doctor Vic.

“What did you do?” Mommy asked Vic.

“I _had_ to.” Vic said. She sounded like she might cry.

Skye curled back around Mommy and her arm gripped Skye too tightly.

Vic glanced at the door when the person knocked again. “I’m required by law to report any child under foster care who requires medical attention to their social worker. We couldn’t find any records for ‘Skye Coulson’, so we couldn’t disclose any information to anyone claiming to be relatives. I just wanted to find her records.” Doctor Vic sighed. “When I called to inform the social worker about Mary Sue Poots’ accident…I didn’t know this would happen.”

The person knocked for the third time and Doctor Banner went to the door. He opened it a crack and muttered to the person outside.

“What’s going on?” Skye asked. “Mommy?”

Mommy arms were so tightly wrapped around her that she was almost hurting Skye, but she didn’t care. Skye tucked her casted arm up to her chest and gripped onto Mommy with the other.

“Mommy?”

Doctor Banner stepped back into the room, holding the door open for the person following him in. Skye watched, prepared for something horrible, when a familiar face entered the room. Skye sat up, breaking away from Mommy and grinned.

“Abby.” Skye greeted her social worker. “What are you doing here?”

Mommy pulled her back. “Please,” Mommy said to Abby, “I know why you’re here. You _know_ this was all an accident. Please, Abby, she’s better with me, with our family.”

Abby swallowed. “I know that, Melinda. But it has to be done. Protocol.”

“Screw protocol!” Mommy was angry. “Skye’s mine. She’s _mine._ I’m her mother.”

“Mommy?”

“Listen,” Abby sighed, “I don’t want to make this traumatic for Skye-,”

“Traumatic?” Mommy laughed, but she sounded so mad. “Of _course_ this is going to be traumatic for her.”

Skye gripped Mommy’s arm.

Abby stepped forward, and now Skye wasn’t so happy to see her. Whenever Skye saw Abby it either meant she was going to a new home, or…she was leaving one.

“No.” Skye said quietly.

“The crash, I know it was probably an accident, but the police need to be involved. They need reports made, and interviews done, you know the drill.”

“Please.” Mommy begged. “Abby don’t do this.”

“I don’t have a choice, Melinda.” Abby said. “Skye hasn’t been with you very long, and she’s still just a foster kid, not adopted. The police are involved and you know that when the police are involved the state declares that the child needs to be placed in a ‘stable environment.’”

“What’s more stable than being with her mother?”

Abby sighed. “You’re not her mother.”

“Don’t you _dare_ say that.” Mommy hissed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Melinda, for Skye’s sake. Make this easy.”

“No.” Mommy said. She held Skye tightly. “No.” She was crying. “Please, Abby, no.”

“I’m so sorry.” Abby said. “I have to take her.”

Skye knew what was coming. She knew. And she hated it.

She shook her head as the tears streamed down her face. Doctor Vic was crying, too. Mommy was shaking. Skye buried her face in Mommy’s chest.

“You promised.” Skye sobbed. “Mommy, you promised we’d be together forever. Mommy, tell Abby I get to stay with you. Please Mommy, please.”

Mommy was crying hard. “I’m sorry. Baby, Skye, I’m so sorry. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.”

“You promised, Mommy.” Skye heaved. “You _promised_.” She turned to look at Abby. “No. Please. I want my Mommy. I wanna stay with Mommy.”

Abby coughed and held out her hand. “Time to go, Skye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY DON'T KILL ME


	21. Skye's Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, but I've been weirdly ill for the past week. As it happens, I think I'm better...I think. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

After the call (‘ _the_ call’, Bobbi was calling it in her head), she had found herself going through the motions, reacting far too calmly for the weight and severity of the situation. Perhaps that was a sign that she was really growing up. Perhaps it was a sign of early onset traumatic stress. Bobbi chose not to dwell on it.

Back in Tony Stark’s wine cellar, all the person on the other end of the phone had told Bobbi was that her parents had been in a nasty car accident and were being taken to the local hospital. She’d asked about Skye, and the woman on the phone had confirmed that there had indeed been a child in the car with the adults, and would also be taken to the hospital. The call had ended and that was it.

Lance had tried to calm her down, to tell her everything was going to be okay and that she shouldn’t panic, but in the end, his words of comfort hadn’t been necessary. Bobbi had hung up the phone, allowed a few minutes of dread to wash over her, and then had pulled it together. The tears stopped, the trembling stopped, and she instead became the big sister, the leader, the one in charge.

It was what Bobbi needed to hold herself together, a purpose. Nat and Clint were drunk and passed out. They needed Bobbi. She would be forever grateful that Hunter knew she wanted to be the one calling the shots, and let her get on with it, doing exactly what she asked of him with a practiced ease.

Sobering up Nat and Clint had proved easier than Bobbi had anticipated. It turned out that informing them that their parents and little sister were potentially seriously injured in hospital, did wonders to break them from their drunken stupor. Distressing? Yes. But effective? Definitely.

Tony had been kind enough to drive Bobbi and the others to the hospital. The drive had been quiet, Bobbi had sat in the back with her sister and Clint while Hunter rode up front. Even Tony, usually too mouthy for his own good, kept quiet, and when Bobbi told him to go back home once they had arrived at the hospital, he did. Tony had hugged Bobbi, told Hunter to give him a call when they found anything else out, and had left to go back home to his girlfriend and their son.

That had been hours ago. Too many hours and too little information from the hospital had left all four of them tired and irritable. Bobbi’s handle on herself was slipping.

Clint had taken to sitting on the linoleum floor in the E.R., resting his head on the row of plastic chairs and nodding off every few minutes. Bobbi noted that he’d taken out his hearing aids, but didn’t mention it. Nat had been quiet all night, too, sticking to Bobbi like gum on a shoe sole. Her younger sister had been fighting sleep for most of the night, pale and shuddering from what Bobbi assumed was a mixture of shock and after affects of the wine. Eventually, though, Nat had given up her battle and laid her head down in Bobbi’s lap, out light a light within seconds. Clint kept a hand on her ankle.

Bobbi stroked Natasha’s hair, nails raking gently along her scalp. It was a little knotted, not as silky as it usually was and the smell of chlorine wafted up to Bobbi’s nose every time she took a deep breath. A few hours ago they had been messing around like kids in Tony’s pool. So much had changed.

The rhythmic combing through her little sister’s hair was the only thing grounding Bobbi enough not to begin freaking out. Well, that and grinding her teeth against the puckering fabric of her sweater sleeve. Her Mom would tell her to stop, but Mom wasn’t there. Mom was somewhere holed up in the freaking hospital where Bobbi couldn’t be with her.

She pushed the damp fabric further into her mouth with the tips of her fingers until it caught in between her molars and Bobbi could chew on it properly. Her hand stilled in Nat’s hair when Hunter walked over from the front desk. He had dark circles under his eyes and gave her an apologetic smile as he reached their little group.

“Still won’t tell me anything, love.” Hunter grumbled. “I’m trying.”

He’d been back and forward to the reception area of the hospital asking about her parents and Skye, but they still wouldn’t give up any more information than the facts Bobbi had been given over the phone. In fact, in the past couple of trips to the front desk, the clerk had given Lance even less information, refusing to update him at all on the condition of Skye.

Lance ran a hand over his face. “They’re keeping their lips zipped.” He sat down by her feet and reached up slowly, gently taking her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth. Lance laced his fingers with Bobbi’s, seemingly unbothered by the wet sweater sleeve, and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Same old?” Bobbi asked.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Mel and Phil are okay, can’t tell us anything more than that. Just that they’re okay, won’t tell me about your Mum’s-,” He cut himself off but Bobbi barely noticed, “And they’re just refusing to tell me _anything_ about Skye. I don’t even know why. I can’t understand it.”

“Me neither.” Bobbi said. She moved her hand from Nat’s hair and started absently twisting the earrings in her little sister’s ear. “When they won’t tell us anything, it makes me think it’s because it’s bad news.”

“Nah.” Hunter shook his head. “It’s the opposite, surely? If it were bad, they’d _have_ to tell us, right? I mean, that’s how it works.”

“Is it?”

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know, love.” Lance squeezed her hand. “I hope I’m right, though.”

Bobbi nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

…

Skye had been upset before, been distressed before, been heartbroken before, but Skye had never _ever_ felt like this. This feeling, the feeling of dread and fear and utter devastation that was consuming her, was all brand new. Skye was distraught. Her broken wrist was nothing compared to the gripping fear she felt in her chest and tummy.

“I’m not leaving.” She said in her biggest voice. Tears caught her words but she gripped onto Mommy’s arm and sat up straight in the hospital bed. “I’m not leaving.”

Abby shook her head. “I’m sorry, Skye-,”

“No. I’m _not_ leaving.”

“You have to.” Abby said louder. She looked sad, and sorry, but her voice was firm. “I know you don’t want to, but you _have_ to.”

Skye narrowed her eyes. “I don’t _have_ to do anything.” She said.

Mommy’s grip around her waist tightened. “Baby…”

“You can’t make me do anything. You can’t _force_ me.” Skye’s tone came out far more confident than she felt. She turned to her Mommy. “Abby can’t make me go with her, right?”

Mommy didn’t say anything, she just pulled Skye down and hugged her tightly to her chest. Skye listened to the thrum of Mommy’s heart, much faster than it had been just minutes before, and held onto her securely. Mommy wouldn’t let her be taken away. Mommy had promised, she had promised that Skye would never have to leave. She had _promised_.

Skye pressed her face into Melinda’s collarbone. “Don’t let her take me back. You promised. Mommy, please. Don’t let her take me, Mommy.”

“Melinda,” Abby said in her ‘firm’ voice, “you know this is not an optional transition. You _know_ that.”

Mommy hugged Skye even tighter, so tight it actually hurt, properly hurt, trapping her casted arm between them so that it dug hard into her chest, but Skye held her back just as firm. A part of her thought that maybe if she held onto Mommy tight enough, Abby would never be able to take her away. Another part of her, the older, more rational part, said that Skye was fighting a losing battle.

“Baby,” Mommy whispered to her, “my baby girl. You know I love you, right?”

Skye sobbed. “I love you, too.”

“Tell me, tell me, Skye that you know how much I love you. Please, I need to hear that you understand how much I love you.”

“I understand.” Skye said. “Mommy, don’t make me go away.”

Mommy was crying, her chest shuddering under Skye’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, Skye. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Mommy. Please, Mommy. No.”

“Melinda. This needs to be done.” Abby said. “It’s the law. It doesn’t mean it’s forever.”

“But what if it is?” Mommy said. “You can’t guarantee me that everything’s going to be fine, Abby. You can’t do that.”

“You’re right. I can’t do that, and I’m not going to.” Abby sighed. “I don’t want to be the bad person here, but I need to do my job.”

Skye closed her eyes as tight as she could.

“I’m sorry I’m having to do this.” Abby said. “But I can only say I’ll do my best to make this right. Melinda, I know you’re a fantastic parent. You _and_ Phil. I’m on your side.”

Mommy laughed bitterly. “Forgive me for feeling like you’re not on my side right now.” She kissed Skye’s head. “This isn’t fair. It’s not fair on Skye.”

“I agree with you.” Abby said quietly. “But it has to be done. I’m going to step out for a few minutes, give you some time to say goodbye.”

Skye heard the hospital room door open and close, and then it was quiet. Abby and the doctors were gone. It was just Skye and Mommy, and the baby in her tummy, and maybe they would all be able to go home soon and Skye would be able to cuddle with Daddy and Nat and Bobbi. Maybe it was all going to go away.

It wasn’t. Skye was eight, she was a child, but she wasn’t stupid. Mommy and Daddy taught her that.

Her eyes were still closed and she still held on tightly to Mommy. It was a nightmare, it was _worse_ than many of her nightmares.

“Mommy?” Skye asked.

Mommy held the back of her head and stroked her fingers through Skye’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

Skye laid her hand against her Mommy’s chest, feeling the beat of her heart drum under her palm. “I have to go away.”

“Skye-,”

“Abby’s gonna take me away, isn’t she?”

Mommy started crying hard again, and Skye found her own tears stemming, even though the sobs continued to wrack her chest. Skye unwound her arm from around Mommy, keeping one hand over her heart, and extracted herself from Mommy’s grip. She sat up to see her properly.

“Mommy, why do I have to leave?”

Mommy put a hand on her cheek. “Because you’re just too good for me.”

“That’s not true.” Skye said.

“It’s very true, Skye.” She kissed her. “You’re too good for me.”

“Will it be forever?” Skye bit her lip hard to stop the tears. “Will I have to leave forever?”

Mommy shook her head. “I will never rest until I get you back to me, baby girl. _That_ , I can promise you.”

“You promised I’d never have to leave.”

Mommy held Skye’s face between her hands. “You see how you’re too good for me? I’m so sorry I’ve broken my promise. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Skye said. She just wished Mommy would stop saying ‘sorry’. It wasn’t changing anything. Saying she was ‘sorry’ wasn’t making Abby leave without Skye. “I don’t think it’s your fault.”

There were still tears on her cheeks, but Mommy wasn’t crying anymore. Instead her face was serious, and when she spoke to Skye, Skye knew she had better listen.

“I need you to understand, even just a little bit, why this is happening.” Mommy said. “Because it’s not your fault, Skye, it’s not.”

“Then why do I have to go?”

Mommy sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she pressed her forehead against Skye’s. “There are some people who seem to think that you’ll be better off without your Daddy and I for a while.”

Skye shook her head. “No. They’re wrong.”

“They are.” Mommy agreed. “But they’re in charge, and it’s hard to make them change their minds.”

“Maybe I could talk to them?” Skye suggested. It was worth a shot. Maybe she could turn on the charm, bat her eyelashes a few times and get the people in charge to let her stay with Mommy.

“That’s a sweet idea, Skye, but it doesn’t really work that way.” Mommy smiled sadly. “The car crash,” she paused, swallowing hard, “it was someone’s fault-,”

“Not yours.” Skye said with certainty.

“It was _someone’s_ fault. It was, and it might have been mine. The police, they need to figure out who’s to blame, and until they do, the people in charge say you need to go back with Abby.”

Skye frowned and pulled Mommy’s hands away from her face. “But why?” She asked. It made no sense. Mommy and Daddy hadn’t done anything. It wasn’t their fault.

Mommy looked down at Skye’s cast. “The police just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“But you won’t hurt me.” Skye said quietly.

“And don’t you ever for get that.” There was a sound behind Skye and Mommy looked away, past Skye, to the hospital room door. “I was distracted in the car, Skye. It was my fault. I’m sorry. But it was my fault.”

“But it _wasn’t_.” Skye said. Mommy was right, she _had_ been distracted, Daddy had been, too because they had been fighting, and Skye hadn’t liked it at all, but the crash hadn’t happened because of the fight. “Mommy, it wasn’t-,”

The door opened and Skye turned to see Abby standing in the doorway with Doctor Vic. There were more people behind them, but Skye ignored them all and turned back to her Mommy.

“Please don’t make me go.” Skye begged, wrapping her arms around her Mommy’s neck. “Please. Please. Please.”

“I don’t want you to leave me, Skye.” Mommy cried. “This isn’t my decision. But it has to be done. Be a good girl. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Time to go.” Abby said. She coughed. “Come on, Skye.”

“No. No. No. No. No.” Skye chanted. She hid her face in her Mommy’s chest, her little fingers white with their grip on the hospital gown. “I don’t want to. It’s not fair. It’s not _fair._ ”

Mommy pulled Skye impossibly closer, holding the back of her head with her hand. She pressed her lips to Skye’s ear, the hot breath uncomfortable but so welcome if it meant that Mommy was near.

“You listen to me, baby girl.” Mommy whispered to her.

Skye held her breath to quell the sobs, desperate not to miss a single syllable.

“I’ve broken a promise to you, and that is never okay, but I’m going to make you another one that I won’t break. One I _cannot_ break.”

Skye nodded, still listening intently.

“From the moment you leave my arms, until the moment you are back in them for good, I will _never_ stop trying to make this right? Okay? I will fight to get you back to me, baby girl. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” Skye breathed. “I believe you, Mommy.”

Mommy kissed her and spoke once more. “I love you. I love you _so much._ ”

“I love you, too, Mommy.”

“Okay, we really need to leave.” Abby said.

“Yeah.” Mommy nodded at her then turned back to Skye. “I love you. Daddy loves you. Nat and Bobbi, Clint and Hunter, we all love you. Skye, you are wanted.”

Skye felt the tears start streaming down her face again. She kissed Mommy’s face all over, and hugged her tighter than she ever thought possible, until Abby lifted her from the bed, took her hand and led her out of the room.

Doctor Vic was standing by the door looking as though she were about to burst into tears, but Skye barely spared her a look. If this was anyone’s fault, it was hers. Doctor Victoria had called the people in charge. She had made this happen.

Skye kept her eyes on the ground, relying on Abby’s grip on her hand to lead her safely. Honestly, Skye didn’t care. She’d rather get lost among the throngs of people in the hospital that go back to the one place that she knew better than anywhere, and hated more than anything else.

A police officer followed them down the corridors, through the lengths of hallways and through doors, until Abby and Skye reached a wide-open space filled with chairs and people and talking. The officer hadn’t said anything to them the whole time, but now he spoke to Abby in quiet whispers that Skye could still hear but couldn’t be bothered to care about.

“I’ll leave you to take her from here.” The police officer said. “We’ll try to get this sorted ASAP.” He said to Abby. “ I got kids at home. Seeing her like this is killing me.”

“Yeah, well,” Abby said, “ripping a happy child away from her parents is hardly a walk in the park for me either.”

Skye stared at her feet, still in hospital socks. She didn’t even have her clothes Mommy and Daddy had bought for her. She didn’t have her backpack from home with all of her stuff. She didn’t even have Mr. Snow, and that thought alone was enough to make her tears become frantic. She ripped her hand away from Abby’s, threw herself onto the floor, and screamed.

…

Nat had awoken a few minutes earlier with Bobbi’s hand in her hair, Clint’s on her leg, and the overwhelming urge to puke forcing her off the plastic chairs and sprinting towards the bathrooms with a hand over her mouth. She was crying even before she made it into the cubicle, retching and coughing too soon for all of the watery vomit to make it into the toilet.

Natasha gagged as she sobbed, not entirely sure which bodily function was triggering which. Hands pulling her hair back into a ponytail alerted her to Bobbi’s presence, and even after Natasha found nothing else to throw up other than a nasty- looking bile, Bobbi held her close and stroked her cheek and cried with her.

The sisters stayed in the cubicle, on the ground with the door locked, for a long time. Someone knocked timidly on the door and asked and if everything was alright, and Bobbi fed whoever it was some bullshit about her being a little sick. It worked, they were in a hospital after all, and the then they were left alone again

“Come here.” Bobbi said quietly. He cheeks showed signs of tears and her eyes were red, but her voice was strong and sure. She unzipped Nat’s hoodie, careful not to get any of the vomit on Natasha. “We’ll just clean this when we get home, okay?”

“Just put it in the trash.” Nat muttered, closing her eyes.

“I can wash it, Nat, it’s fine.”

“I said just put it in the _trash_.” Natasha snapped, opening her eyes to glare at her sister. “Just, I don’t, just…” Her breath caught as another sob shuddered through her chest.

Bobbi nodded, but kept the soiled hoodie wrapped up on her lap. “You’re okay.” She said. Bobbi wrapped Nat up in her arms and guided her head to her shoulder. “You’re okay, Bubba. You’re okay.” She grabbed some toilet roll and wiped at Natasha’s mouth.

Nat sniffed. “Are Mom and Dad okay?” She bit hard into the inside of her lip. “And Skye?”

“I think so.” Bobbi said, flushing the mess away.

“Why won’t they tell us anything, Bobbi?” Natasha ripped a tiny piece of skin away from the inside of her lip with her teeth.

“I don’t know. I’m sure it’ll all be okay.” Bobbi smiled at her. It was far too forced to be comforting. “And hey, maybe by the time they let us see Mom and Dad, you’ll be over your hangover.”

The joke fell flat and Bobbi shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tasha. I just don’t know what to do.”

Nat nodded. “I’m scared.”

Bobbi hugged her and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Me, too.”

The two of them cleaned up in the bathroom and walked back out into the waiting room. Clint stood anxiously outside of the women’s restrooms, looking Nat up and down when she exited.

“Everything okay?” He asked. “Nat, you need anything? I can get you something?”

She smiled at him and shook her head, dropping her head slightly. “Just maybe a hug.”

He didn’t react and Nat looked up, noting the absence of aids in his ears. She repeated herself, accompanying the words with the practiced gestures of sign language.

Clint nodded and wrapped her up in his arms. His breath was rank, and Nat assumed after vomiting up half a bottle of red wine, hers couldn’t be any better, but he was warm and safe and everything Natasha needed right now in her life.

Her Mom, Dad, and baby sister were hurt. That’s all she knew on the topic and it was killing her. Another wave of nausea rolled over her and Natasha had to close her eyes and breathe through her nose until it passed. Natasha was hardly an angel. She was nineteen and away from home at college for most of year, a hangover wasn’t exactly new territory for her, but this, this disgusting sick feeling wasn’t down to the booze. She wanted her Mom and Dad. This was all anxiety.

Bobbi returned to hers and Clint’s sides, having sought out a plastic bag in which to put Natasha’s dirty hoodie. Her sister handed it off to Clint.

“We’ll wash it when we get home.” Bobbi said. “It’ll be good as new.”

Nat nodded. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” Bobbi kissed her head.

Tasha rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, or a dog.”

“You’re not a dog, Tashy,” Bobbi smiled, “but you’re my baby sissy. For ever and ever.”

Natasha laughed, and it felt weird to be able to do such a jovial thing when the circumstances were so dire, but it also made her forget about the nausea for a few seconds and allowed the anxiety to dissipate. That was until Clint’s grip on her tightened and his face fell.

“What the fuck is happening?” He breathed, and Nat and Bobbi turned to where he was looking just in time to see their baby sister throw herself onto the ground and scream.

“Skye!” Bobbi was already shouting and half way to the little girl before Natasha even had time to react. She and Clint followed, watching as Skye looked up and launched herself at Bobbi.

“She’s taking me away.” Skye cried, gripping Bobbi with one hand and holding out the other, in a blue cast, to Natasha. “Tell her to let me stay with Mommy and Daddy. I don’t want to go.”

Natasha glanced at the woman now attempting to remove Skye from Bobbi’s arms and pieces that made absolutely no sense, began working their way into a pattern that had Nat’s nausea twisting her insides. Abby.

Hunter rushed over and stepped between Abby and Bobbi. “Sorry, love, but this is our kid. Go and find your own.”

Abby looked at the officer beside her then back to Hunter. “Skye needs to come with me.”

Hunter crossed his arms. “And who are you, exactly?”

“Abby.” Nat said, spelling the name with her hands for Clint’s benefit. His arm around her tightened and he fished in his pockets for his hearing aids.

“Right, lovely. Hello Abby, I’m Lance Hunter. Now please tell me why the hell we should hand over our little girl to you when she clearly wants nothing less.”

Nat was impressed. She had never seen Hunter like this. She’d heard from Bobbi about his fights to gain custody of his little sister, but this side of him, Natasha had never experienced. Sparked on by Hunter’s confidence, Natasha took a step forward.

“You can’t take her, Abby, she lives with us now.”

Abby looked surprised for a second, taking longer than Nat suspected she would have liked, to recover. “Natasha? How are you?”

Nat glared at her. “Not the time, nor the place, I think.”

Hunter pushed Bobbi and Skye back, keeping and hand on the distressed little girl’s shoulder. “Again, who are you?”

“I’m Skye’s social worker. I was Natasha’s too, once upon a time.” She smiled at Natasha but Clint shook his head and Abby looked back to Hunter. “Mel and Phil, you heard they were in an accident?”

“Yes.” Bobbi said. “But they’re okay?”

“They are.” Skye spoke up. Bobbi was resting the child on her hip and rocking her gently from side to side. “I saw Mommy.”

“There’s going to be an investigation into the accident.” Abby said.

Clint frowned. “Investigation?”

The police officer stepped forward and the family stepped back. “A criminal police investigation.” He said. “And while that goes on, Skye can‘t be living with a suspect.”

“Suspect?” Bobbi said. “What the hell is going on?”

The officer sighed. “We believe that someone was at fault for the car accident.”

“Not Mommy.” Skye piped up.

He ignored her. “And until we discover who was at fault, Skye is going to have to return to state care.”

Nat’s blood ran cold. “No. No.” She lifted Skye from Bobbi’s arms and the little girl held on tightly. “You can’t take her. No.” Natasha looked to Bobbi. “They can’t.”

Bobbi opened her mouth but no words were uttered. She turned to the officer and back to Nat. “I-I- don’t, Skye, she should be with us. With Mom and Dad.”

“That’s not up to you.” Abby said. “I’m so sorry guys, but I need to take her.”

Hunter turned to Nat. His Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down and he was frowning hard. “This isn’t right.”

“I agree with you.” Abby said. “But while this whole thing’s going on, Skye can’t stay with Phil and Melinda.”

He stepped up to her. “Then leave her with us. If for whatever ridiculous reason Skye can’t be with Mel and Phil until all this has blown over, leave her with us. Bob and I, we can look after her.” Lance looked to his wife and Bobbi began nodding quickly in agreement.

“Sir-,” The officer began, only to be cut off by Abby.

“I don’t even know you.” She said to Hunter. “I can’t leave a child with you.”

Skye pressed herself even closer to Natasha and she ignored the protesting ache in her arms, tightening her grip on her baby sister.

“You know Bobbi, though.” Hunter argued. “You know her enough, anyway.” Bobbi stepped up beside him and he wrapped an arm around her. “You know her enough to know that she’s capable of caring for a child. Come on.”

Abby sighed. “I’m sorry, but-,”

“We’re qualified.” Bobbi said. “Both of us.”

Clint arched an eyebrow at Natasha and she shrugged in response. She had no idea what Bobbi was talking about. Her guess was as good as his at this point.

“What do you mean,” Abby said, “qualified?”

Bobbi glanced at Hunter. “We have license for emergency foster care in the U.K. We took care of Lance’s sister a lot when we lived there, and we got them just in case taking her in when her parents couldn’t look after her became a necessity. We can do this.”

Natasha dared not look away from Abby’s face, lest she give something away in her expression regarding her decision over Skye. The little girl in question held her cast to her chest and Natasha kissed her cheek.

“Surely that transfers over here,” Hunter said, “I mean, we can look after Skye. We can. It doesn’t need to be this way.”

Abby sighed heavily and spared a look at Natasha and Skye. “I’m not guaranteeing anything,” she said to Bobbi and Hunter, “and I _need_ to take Skye with me tonight-,”

Hunter began to protest and Abby held up a hand. “ _But,_ if you two check out on the system, I can maybe rush some things through and we can look into Skye staying with you.”

Skye lifted her head. “But I don’t want to go back to the orphanage.”

Abby shrugged sympathetically. “That’s the most I can do.” She looked at Hunter. “Get me proof that you two are capable foster parents and come find me tomorrow.”

“Proof?” Bobbi questioned.

Abby nodded. “Show me you’ve got a house, that you’re married, that you’ve taken care of kids before, _anything_ that will help your cause.” She shook her head. “I want the best for Skye, too.”

Hunter nodded. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Whether it was the hope of Bobbi and Hunter’s caretaking, or the shock at the situation, or even the complete exhaustion from such a long day, when Abby beckoned for Skye to go with her, the little girl kissed Natasha, hugged her tightly and wiggled until she put her down. Skye made the rounds, hugging and kissing each of the family in turn before returning to Nat.

“It’s gonna be okay, right?” Skye asked.

Nat nodded. “I hope so, malyutka.” She hugged Skye tightly, quickly. “Are you scared?”

Skye nodded, her lower lip quivering, threatening another onslaught of tears. Natasha understood that. She _so_ understood that.

“Be brave.” She said to Skye. “Try to be brave for me, okay?”

Skye nodded. “I’ll try. I can be brave like you.”

“Like me?”

“You’re very brave.” Skye said. “I can be like you, Tasha.”

“I love you.” Nat kissed her once again.

“I love you, too.” Skye said, and then she was gone, being led out into the parking lot by Abby, neck craned to keep her eyes on her family until the very last second she was taken around the corner and out of their sight.

Nat leaned back into Clint. Skye was gone. She didn’t know what to feel. Skye was gone and her parents were still absent. Natasha didn’t feel brave.

“Now what?” She said quietly. She wasn’t sure who she was asking, but it was Hunter who answered.

“Now,” Hunter turned to her and Clint, “you two go and see your parents. I have a sneaking suspicion they’ll let you in now.” He gave the police officer, still by their side, a glance, then looked back to Nat and Clint. “Call if there’s any problems, okay?”

Natasha nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Clint agreed. “And where are you going?”

“Bob and I are off to find a way to convince the authorities that we own a house.” He looked at Bobbi. “That’s doable, right?”

She grimaced. “Probably not.”

“That’s the spirit, darlin’.” He said and took off in the direction of the parking lot. “Come on, then, Bobbi. We’ve got shit to get done.”

Bobbi quickly kissed the side of Natasha’s head and squeezed her arm. “Just call me if you need anything.” Bobbi smiled at Clint. “Tell Mom and Dad I love them. We’re going to make this right.”

“Oi, Hell beast!” Hunter called from the other end of the room, earning a few disgruntled mumbles and heated glares. He had his phone up to his ear. “Stark’s coming to get us.”

Bobbi gave Nat one last hug and jogged after her husband. “I hope you know what you’re doing!” She called.

He laughed. “Not a bloody clue!”

Clint looked down at Natasha. “I’m glad they seem to have everything under control.” He said sarcastically. “I was worried there for a second but Hunter has given me a great vote of confidence.”

Tasha sighed. “I have no idea what just happened.” She looked at the officer. “Do you?” The policeman shrugged and Nat took a deep breath. “Great.”

…

Melinda asked to see Phil after Abby took Skye away. It was the only thought on her mind. She _needed_ to see Phil, to see her husband. This was all wrong. She needed him to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her that is was all going to be okay, that everything was going to be fine.

They wouldn’t let her see him.

Skye’s doctor was gone, leaving only Doctor Banner and two police officers in the room. On a normal day, maybe Melinda would feel exposed wearing only the hospital gown in front of the strangers in the room, but today she didn’t care. Nothing mattered except her baby girl. Her little girl who had been ripped from her through no fault of her own.

“Oh God.” Mel sobbed, dropping her head into her hands. “It’s my fault. It’s my fault.”

“Can’t you do this later.” Mel heard Doctor Banner say. “She’s obviously distressed.”

“The faster we get this done, the faster this all gets cleared up.” One of the officers said.

Melinda lifted her head. “I need my daughter back.” She said brokenly, wiping her eyes. “Please.” She looked between the two officers. “Please.”

“Ma’am,” the male officer said, “I’m officer Joseph Morgan, this is officer Greer Grant.” He motioned to the female officer in the room and Mel nodded to them both. “We need to talk to you about your car accident.”

“Okay.” Mel said. “Anything. I’ll tell you anything you need to know as long I can get my baby back.”

Officer Grant nodded. “We have officers talking to your husband as we speak. If your stories check out, you’ll have your little girl back very soon.”

Melinda looked to Doctor Banner, hoping for some kind of confirmation, but the man was nervously looking between the two officers, his head dipped. It almost looked as though he was hiding under his large glasses.

“How long will this take?” Mel asked. “I want to see my husband.”

Officer Morgan pulled a chair from the side of the room and dragged it over to Melinda’s bed. “It’ll take as long as it takes. Sorry I can’t be more specific.”

Mel nodded.

“I know you probably want to see your other children soon, too.” He said.

“Yes, yes.” Melinda nodded. “Are they here? Are they okay?”

Officer Grant smiled. “I’ve been told that they’re a very persistent bunch.”

Even in the weight of the situation, Melinda couldn’t help but smirk. Her children certainly were. A sudden wave of pride overcame her at the thought of her kids.

“Yes.” Grant said. “They’ve been downstairs for hours. Asking after you and your husband practically every few minutes.” She shook her head slightly. “We couldn’t tell them much, and couldn’t tell them anything about Skye. You understand?”

“Sure.” Mel said.

“You can see them and your husband after we’re done here.” Officer Morgan said. “Shall we start?”

Mel nodded as Bruce Banner said, “I’ll come back later. I have other patients.”

The officers barely spared the doctor a look as he left, but Melinda watched as Bruce ducked out of the door as quickly as he could. The door closed and she turned back to the officers.

“Ask away.”

…

Phil was getting more and more agitated. They just weren’t _telling_ him anything.

For over half an hour he’d been being assaulted with questions regarding the nature of the accident, which Phil had been _trying_ to answer best he could, despite the fact that he couldn’t actually remember all of it. Stuff was disappearing from his mind that he had been able to remember when he had first woken up. It was frustrating and scary. He could see images of the crash, but couldn’t see _how_ they had actually got there. Phil remembered being at Tony’s house, but after that he could only hear Skye screaming, could see Melinda’s face, but the rest was pricking at the edges of his consciousness then flitting away before he managed to grasp onto it.

A doctor, who wasn’t Banner, had come in half way through and explained to the officer and Phil that he more than likely was having some trauma-induced memory loss. Apparently this was common enough to happen in the hours after an accident, and sometimes the memories would return, and sometimes they were gone forever. The doctor assured Phil he was fine, that his CT scans had all been clear, but the loss of memory was still frightening.

After the woman had left, the police officers had continued to ask their pointless questions.

They continuously asked him about Melinda’s ability as a driver. They asked if they had been having a conversation in the car, if so, what was the nature of the conversation. They asked whether they had been listening to music, whether Skye was a good traveller, whether Melinda found herself being distracted easily. They asked over and over what Phil could remember last, and he continued to tell the officers that he only remembered things here and there from the journey. Nothing solid. Nothing that would incriminate anyone or prove anyone’s innocence.

And Phil wasn’t stupid. He knew that an interview was standard protocol for the situation, there _had_ been a traffic accident after all, but the problem was that the police were refusing point blank to answer any of _his_ questions. Phil had asked about his wife, Skye, his other children, but nothing. They told him nothing.

“Listen,” Phil said eventually, holding up a hand, “I just want to see my family. I want to see my wife and my daughter, to prove to myself that they _are_ actually okay. I need to see it with my own eyes.”

“I understand that, Mr Coulson,” The officer said, “but believe me, this is for your own benefit. We need answers to these questions.”

“But I don’t know them!” Phil growled in frustration. He breathed deeply. “Sorry, sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“It’s okay, sir. I understand.”

Phil sighed. “I take it you think that the crash was someone’s fault.” The officers said nothing. “Why else would be asking me about my wife’s ability to drive?”

The officer glanced to his colleague. “We believe that someone is at fault here.” He said. “Not necessarily your wife,” the policeman added quickly, “but it is important we are able to clear her name.”

“Of course it’s important.” Phil scoffed. “I may not be able to remember much, but I know this isn’t her fault. She shouldn’t get the blame.”

The officer nodded and stood up from his chair. “Feel better soon, Mr Coulson. And give us a call if you remember anything else.” He smiled sadly at Phil. “There’s a lot riding on this.”

Phil frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The officer just looked away. “I hope we can get this all cleared up soon, sir.”

Phil watched with confusion as the officers left his hospital cubicle and pulled the curtains back around him. For officers of the law, the men had decided to be very cryptic.

He ignored the protesting of his broken ribs and reached over the bed for the buzzer attached to the wall. Phil pressed down and kept his finger on it until a nurse rushed in.

“Mr Coulson?” She looked him up and down. “Are you okay?”

He began pushing himself out of bed, gasping at the gripping pain in his torso. “I need to see my wife.”

…

Natasha held Clint’s hand tightly in hers as they followed the police officer down the hallways of the hospital. The man had assured them that he could take the two of them to see Nat’s Mom, after another officer radioed from another part of the hospital.

“Hey,” Clint said quietly and she looked up at him, “everything’s gonna be fine.”

He didn’t sound particularly sure, but Nat appreciated the attempt at comfort anyway. She squeezed his hand and he brought hers up to kiss her knuckles.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

They continued to follow the officer for a few more corners before the man turned to them and spoke. “So, uh, you guys in school?” He asked.

Clint arched an eyebrow at him and Nat rolled her eyes at the man’s pathetic attempt at making small talk.

“College? You guys in college? Maybe you’re still in high school? I’ve got kids in middle school.” The officer informed them.

Nat narrowed her eyes. “Stop talking. I prefer the silence.” She said.

Clint smirked as the officer nodded and turned back the way he was leading them.

“I love you.” Clint mumbled into her hair, pulling her close. “Have I ever told you that?”

She kissed his chin. “Might have mentioned it once or twice. Plus, you’re carrying a bag with my hoodie covered in my vomit in it. That’s love.”

Clint kissed her temple, and when he looked up, he froze for half a second. He pulled Natasha forward, almost knocking the police officer out of the way. Nat craned her neck to see what her boyfriend had spotted, and her eyes fell upon her father.

“Daddy?” She broke away from Clint and sprinted down the hall to where her father was shuffling along with the aid of a nurse. “Dad?” Natasha said again when she reached him, looking from his stiff stance, to his hospital gown, to his I.V being pulled along by the nurse. She felt herself beginning her get upset. “Daddy?”

He reached for her. “Come here, baby.”

“Watch his ribs.” The nurse said.

Her dad shook his head. “I don’t care about my ribs. I need a hug from my little girl.”

Natasha tried to be gentle, tried not to jostle the IV and to take the nurse’s warning into account, but when she fell into her father’s arms after what was creeping up into being the worst day of her life (and Nat had had some _bad_ days), she couldn’t help but cling onto him like Skye had been clinging onto her not too long ago.

“Dad,” She cried, “Daddy I thought- I was- Dad-,” She stuttered over her words, never really expressing anything, but her father seemed to understand.

He held her tightly and stroked her hair. “I know, I know.” He comforted. “I’m okay, we’re okay.” He kissed her hair. “I love you. Everything’s alright.”

She nodded against his chest, rubbing her nose on the fabric of the gown. Natasha felt Clint’s arms go around her and her father, and looked up to see he had tears in his eyes.

“You okay?” Her dad asked Clint.

Clint nodded. “Yeah. M’okay.”

“Good boy.” Her father smiled and kissed Clint quickly on the forehead.

Clint pulled away and grimaced. “You’re getting soft, Dad.” He mumbled. Clint didn’t often call her parents ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’, but when it slipped out, Nat knew it made both of them happy.

Her dad smiled. “It’s been a long day. I’m allowed to express my love for my children.” He kissed Nat’s cheek. She didn’t complain.

“Dad,” She looked up at him and tried to ignore the nasty bruises under his eyes and the bandage on his arm, “I want to see Mom.”

“She’s in here.” The officer said, nodding at a door on the hall. “Let me just check to see if they’re all done.”

“All done what?” Nat asked her dad as the officer poked his head into the room.

Her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “The officers have just been asking us a few questions about the accident.”

“What happened, Dad?” Nat asked, and her father opened his mouth to answer, but the policeman returned with two other police officers before he had the chance to speak.

“You can go in.” He said, and stepped aside for Nat.

Seeing her father in his injured state was bad enough. His pained posture, his black eyes, his bandaged arm, it was all a little scary. Natasha had never had to see her father that way. But somehow, it didn’t even compare to the sucker punch to the gut Nat felt when she entered the hospital room and laid eyes on her mother. The sight of her usually strong and composed mother, laid in a bed, wearing a hospital gown that was slipping off of her shoulders and with an expression of utter devastation on her face, that sight, would haunt Natasha forever.

Her mother just looked _broken_.

“Mama?” She asked, and her mother said nothing, but held open her arms. Natasha sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, desperate not to hurt her mother or jostle any injuries she was unaware of. “Are you okay?”

Her Mom blinked, and tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping from her jaw.

“Melinda?” Her dad said, coming to stand on the other side of the bed. “Mel?”

Her mother attempted to pull Natasha into her arms but she resisted, instead shifting on the bed to wrap her Mom up in a hug, stroking her hair and kissing her cheek. Nat tried to swallow past the tears that began unwillingly when she felt her mother’s body tremor with sobs.

“It’s okay, Mama.” Natasha told her. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the taste of blood in her mouth from where she had been chewing at her lips, and instead pictured Bobbi. Her older sister always seemed to know what to do. “It’s going to be okay.”

Natasha opened her eyes and looked Clint’s way. He was standing in the corner of the room nibbling on his thumbnail and frowning at Melinda, worriedly.

“Mel?” Her dad reached out to wipe the tears form her mother’s cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine, I promise.” He kissed her face. “Where’s Skye?”

Natasha gaped at her father as her mother’s sobs became more insistent. He looked to Clint and then Nat, complete confusion written all over his face. Oh God, Nat thought, he didn’t know.

Clint remained in the corner but moved his hand back by his side. “You don’t know?”

Her dad frowned. “What? Know what?”

Neither of them dared to answer.

“Melinda?” He caught her mother’s chin gently in his hand and turned her face to his. “What’s going on?”

Natasha held her mom even tighter.

“They took her, Phil.” Her mom gasped. “Skye, they took her away from us.”

For all that Natasha had heard the expression ‘their face drained of colour’, she could not say that she had ever observed the phenomenon in practice, until that very moment when her father’s face turned grey, and his expression went slack.

“What?” The words from his mouth were barely audible, but to Nat, the broken tone of his voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

Her mother reached up and gripped his hand. “Abby came. She took our baby from us.”

He shook his head. “No. Why? No.” Nat watched, as fifty different emotions seemed to flit over her father’s face before landing on sheer fury. “No.” He smacked his hand on the metal railing on the bed, making Nat and her mom jump. “They can’t take Skye from us. They just can’t.”

“I tried, Phil. I tried so hard to keep her with me.”

“I know.” He said. “I believe you, Mel, I do.” He shook his head. “We promised her she’d never have to leave.” Her father’s voice caught and he looked away.

Clint stepped forward, standing by the end of the bed. “We saw her.” He said. “Skye.”

“You did?” Her mom sat up straight in Nat’s arms. “Where? When?”

“Just before.” Nat said. “We were waiting in the reception for some news and then we saw Abby with Skye.”

Clint nodded. “She was crying, and she came over to us.” He looked down. “She didn’t want to be taken away, but there was nothing we could do. She took Skye anyway.”

Natasha turned to her mom and dad. “Bobbi and Hunter were with us.” She said. “Hunter’s going to get Skye back. He’s got a plan.”

Her mom blinked at her. “What plan?”

Nat glanced at Clint and he shrugged. She looked back to her parents. “I’m not sure. But he thinks he and Bobbi can take care of her until you guys can get her back.”

“If it helps,” Clint said, “he seemed pretty confident about it.”

Nat was about to remind Clint that Hunter was _constantly_ confident about his plans, which _constantly_ failed, and that he was not helping by commenting on how self-assured Hunter was, but then her mom was nodding and wiping her eyes.

“Actually, Clint,” she said, “that does help a little.”

“We’ll get her back.” Clint said. “We will.”

“She belongs with you and Dad.” Natasha said. She kissed her mother’s cheek and brushed her fingers through her hair. “She has to come back.”

…

Bobbi sat in the back of Tony Stark’s car, leaning as far forward as the restriction of the seatbelt would allow, to look between her husband and the man himself in the front. Hunter reached a hand back between the two front seats and grasped hers as he explained the situation to Tony.

“That’s bullshit.” Tony seethed, taking a tight corner and shaking Bobbi from side to side. “How _dare_ they take a little girl away from her parents? It’s bullshit.”

“I know.” Hunter said. “That’s why we need for them to agree to let Bob and I take Skye until Phil and Mel can have her back.” He gripped Bobbi’s hand and turned to look out of the window. “You should have seen her, Tony.” He said quietly. “She was begging to stay with her mum and dad. They can’t just treat kids like property.”

“It’s not fair.” Bobbi said.

She knew all too well just how it felt to be passed around like property. To be handed off to the people the state felt was the best place. She had been so young when the child protective services had taken her and her brother away from her biological parents. They had split them up, shipped them off to their ‘next of kin’, relatives neither of them even knew existed, and decided that that was ‘best’. Bobbi wasn’t sure about her brother, Ben, but for little Barbara Morse, being dumped on the doorstep of a distant aunt and her drunken husband had been the worst thing to ever happen to her.

She thought about Skye, being driven back to that awful orphanage, a place Nat had barely even spent time in but had hated with every ounce of her being. Her sister, her baby sister, Skye didn’t deserve to have the government decide what was best for her. No. It wasn’t fair, Bobbi thought, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let any big man in a suit take Skye away from her family.

“Tony,” Bobbi said, “you have to help us. We need her back with her family.”

He nodded, his jaw set. “If someone _dared_ even try to take my boy away from me, I’d pull the whole world apart just to get him back.” Tony looked at Bobbi. “You better bet your ass I’d do the same for your baby sister.”

The billionaire grinned and stepped on the gas. “Now let’s get you a house.”

…

Skye had been in a car accident today. She had been hurt. Abby’s car hadn’t even had a booster seat, so Skye had to sit low in the back, in the hospital’s pyjamas, and stare into the black sky instead of at the passing buildings.

Abby tried to talk to her. Skye blocked it out.

They arrived back at St Agnes’ and Skye climbed up the front steps in her hospital socks, and she ignored everyone she saw, and followed Abby to a room, and sat down on the bed, and Skye didn’t speak as the door closed and lights were turned off and room was bathed in a darkness that should have been scary.

Maybe she should have felt frightened of the car ride. She _had_ just been in an accident.

Maybe she should have felt angered by sister Margaret’s sarcastic welcome ‘home’. This would never be Skye’s home.

Maybe she should have felt upset about having nothing of her own with her. Her backpack and her clothes and her toys and her trinkets were all at home.

But Skye was beyond all that. Skye felt nothing like that.

The little girl lay her head down on a pillow that wasn’t hers, in the bed that she didn’t belong in, in a room that had peeling paint and a funny smell, without the people she loved, the people who loved her, and all Skye felt was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooo, what did you think??


	22. Skye's New Acquaintance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the next chapter...I've got some bad news. 
> 
> I'm being dragged away for a caravan holiday against my will for a week on Saturday and there's not going to be any wifi from what I can tell. This means the next chapter will most likely be delayed until after that, unless by some miracle I either finish it before Saturday OR find internet when I'm away.
> 
> Don't miss me too much!

That night in the hospital had been the worst night that Melinda had ever experienced, and that included the night four years before when Natasha had taken off at two in the morning after a fight with her, and tried to find her own way back to Russia. That in itself had been the worst night Melinda could think of to date, until her baby girl had been ripped away from her and all she had were the memories of Skye’s pleas fresh in her mind.

Nat and Clint remained in the room, curled together on the plastic-coated armchair in the corner, falling in and out of fitful sleeps. Mel hadn’t slept, she knew that for sure, awake and suspended in a dreary haze of guilt and devastation. Her mind was too active, thinking only of Skye in that horrible orphanage, and at the same time, dulled and sluggish with the absence of adrenalin and utter exhaustion.

Somewhere in her lower abdomen there was a twinge, like the baby was giving reminders of its presence. Mel rubbed her belly.

Phil didn’t sleep either, or not that Mel had noticed. He remained stoic in the other chair in the room, watching her quietly and occasionally cringing when he jostled his broken ribs. Neither of them spoke, and in the dark room, Melinda found it difficult to distinguish any of expressions.

Nurses checked up on them every so often and when it became clear that Phil had no intentions of leaving Mel and going back to his own bed, they brought in a reclining chair for him to sleep on. Not that it aided his sleep in any way, but Mel was pleased to see he seemed a lot more comfortable after he settled himself on the recliner.

The silence in the room was something that Melinda would maybe have blamed on not wanting to wake the kids if she had wanted to delude herself into thinking that the lack of conversation between her and her husband was healthy. As it happened, she had been through enough in the past day to harbour any such delusions, and instead admitted to herself that it was all down to fear.

Melinda was terrified of what Phil thought of her. She was frightened and needed the comfort of her husband beside her in the bed, his warmth and safety and solidity, but she dared not ask in case he said ‘no’. She had lost their little girl. She had caused this. She glanced over at him in the reclining chair, and he smiled at her in the light of the dawn.

“Hey.” He said quietly. It was the first time she had heard him speak in hours, and his voice was unusually raspy. “Morning.”

Melinda glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost too early to even be considered to be morning, but Phil had always been under the impression that when the sun woke up, he did, too. She looked back at her husband and ran her eyes over the bruises on his face and the bandage on his arm. Melinda sucked in a shaky breath.

“I’m so sorry, Phil.”

Phil eased himself out of the chair and hobbled over to the bed. “Stop that.” He said gently, sitting on the edge. “You stop that.”

“What?”

“Blaming yourself for this. It’s not your fault.”

“I crashed the car.” Mel whispered. “Skye would still be with us if I had been paying more attention.”

Phil nudged her side until she scooted over on the bed, and climbed in with her. It was a squeeze, and Phil made more pained noises than Melinda liked hearing as he settled, but eventually the two of them found a comfortable position. He kissed her temple.

“I’ll never blame you for this, because I truly don’t think you’re to blame.” Phil said.

Mel shook her head. “What would you know, you can’t remember crap.” She couldn’t help but smile at his attempt at looking offended. “Well, you can’t.” She reminded him.

“Fair enough.” He said. “But it’s been coming back to me. Here and there.”

“Yeah?”

“Hm.” Phil rubbed his eyes, then winced when he put too much pressure on the bruises there. “We fought.” He said.

Mel looked away at the band-aid on his hand where the IV had been. “We did. Again, that was my fault.”

“I’m ignoring your self pitying and little guilt party you have going on.” He laced his fingers with hers. “I can’t remember what our fight was about though.”

“You didn’t know.” She said.

“Huh?”

“You never knew what the fight was even about.” Melinda smiled at him. “It was more like, I was fighting _with_ you and you were just confused and shouting.”

Phil nodded. “Confused shouting. That’s _exactly_ what I remember.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “So, why were you mad at me? What did I do?”

Mel sighed. She had to tell me. She _wanted_ to tell him, or rather she had wanted to in the afterglow of her ultrasound with her little girl by her side, not like this. To tell him like this seemed cruel and unfair but to keep him in the dark for any longer just seemed even worse. She moved their joined hands to rest over her stomach.

“You said something that got to me.” She admitted, eyes trained on their hands. “And I just had a moment and flipped out.”

“Flipped out? That’s not usually your style.”

“Call it hormones.” Mel muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Melinda turned to Phil. “I’m so sorry. We need to fix this.”

“We do.” Phil agreed. “And we will.” He kissed her. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“Phil,” Melinda squeezed his hand, “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“Mom?” Nat’s voice reached her from across the room and Melinda looked up to see her daughter rubbing her eyes and extracting herself from Clint. “What time is it?”

“Early.” Phil said. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

Nat grumbled and stretched out her arms. “I don’t think I can. Chairs aren’t comfy.”

Phil made and sympathetic sound and held out an arm to her. Nat smiled at him but made her way to Mel’s side of the bed instead, awkwardly leaning over the bed to hug her. Melinda held her little girl tightly.

“Natasha.” Mel sighed, running her fingers through Nat’s red hair. It was half up in a ponytail, the rest having fallen out over the course of the night, and Mel’s fingers caught on little tangles. “You should go home, baby. Get some rest.”

Natasha shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.”

“We’ll be okay.” Mel assured her. “You must be hungry. Go on, honey. Take Clint, get a cab home, have something to eat, get a shower.”

“No.”

Phil reached over and touched Nat’s cheek. “We worry about you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, a gesture so familiar that it made Melinda feel at ease for half a second. “You worry about me?” Nat scoffed. “ _I_ wasn’t in a car accident yesterday, you dumbs.”

Phil chuckled. “Natasha, you are the light in the dark, you know that?”

Nat blushed. “I don’t want you to be sad.” She said. “Even though you can’t be anything else.” The teenager stood up straight and squared her shoulders. “Bobbi’s going to make everything better.”

“Oh yeah?” Phil said gently.

“Of course.” Nat said with utter certainty, so sure of herself that she made Melinda truly believe, too. “Bobbi can do anything. She’s like a superhero.”

Phil smiled. “That she is.”

“Anyway,” Natasha said, walking over the armchair and kicking Clint in the shin, “I’m not leaving you guys.”

Clint woke up groggily and muttered something at Natasha that she ignored, rubbing his shin.

Nat smiled at Mel. “Except to pee. I need to leave to pee, but I’ll be back in a few minutes and until then, Clint can keep an eye on you.” She ruffled his hair. “Right, Clint?”

“Hm?” He frowned at Nat and she signed something quickly. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Nat turned his face to hers. “Do not fall asleep.” She enunciated each word, exaggerating the movement of her mouth.

“I won’t.” Clint crossed his heart. “Promise.” A yawn obscured most of the word but apparently Nat got the gist because she gave them all a little wave and left the room.

Clint fell asleep within the minute.

“Poor kid.” Phil said with a little smirk. “Nat’s going to kill him.”

Mel smiled. “As if. She loves that boy way too much.”

“Hm.” Phil hummed. “So, what did you need to tell me?”

Melinda opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it again. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to keep her pregnancy from him for any longer, but she didn’t want him to find out like this, not when they were holed up in a hospital room just waiting for their daughter to return at any moment and throttle her boyfriend. No. Mel wanted for Phil to find out when it was _their_ moment, a moment for just the two of them to share. She loved her children like hell, but this needed to be a private conversation. Truth be told, Melinda still was unsure about how Phil would react.

She shook her head and snuggled close to him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Really?”

“No. It _does_ matter. It matters a hell of a lot, but it’s not the time.” Mel said.

Phil kissed her. “When will it be the time?”

“Soon.” She squeezed his hand. “Soon.”

“We’ll get our baby back soon, too. I promise.” Phil nodded. “Skye’s our daughter. I’m not letting her go…”

“Without a fight?” Mel finished for him and he shook his head.

“No. I’m not letting her go. Fight or no fight, I’m not letting Skye go.”

…

Skye had thought she wouldn’t sleep, or if she did, she would be plagued with nightmares of being abandoned and dumped like was her past reality. Neither seemed to have been the case when Skye awakened naturally in the little boxy room in the orphanage. She hadn’t slept particularly well, she had kept waking up cold and unable to get warm even with the blankets, but she hadn’t had any nightmares. There had just been nothing.

The room the nuns had put her in the night before was one held purely for the purpose of children coming in for emergency care or care at short notice, and only had one bunk bed with no other furniture. It was a room away from most of the other bedrooms, and therefore a little isolated from the other children. For that, Skye was grateful. She didn’t want to see any of the kids.

There was a window at one side, but it wasn’t real glass, just a hardy plastic covered in scratches and crude drawings etched into the pane. Skye had been in the room before when returning from placements at short-notice, and there were mean words scratched into the plastic window that had been there for years.

It had no curtains either, and that was how Skye found herself blinking awake in the early hours, turning away from the window and towards the wall against which the bed had been pushed. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, only to remember too late that one hand was now hindered by a cast, and hitting herself in the face with the heavy limb.

“Ouch.” She said automatically, even though it hadn’t really hurt. She ran her other hand over the pale blue surface of the cast, pressing her fingers into the rough texture until they stung.

She lay in the strange bed for a long time, watching the shadow from the upper bunk move slowly across the peeling white paint of the wall as the morning progressed. Her head felt strange, the inside where her thoughts lived not the outside where Thor had glued it back together. It felt full of too many things, and nothing at all. Empty, and filled with everything all at once.

Skye thought that she might cry, but then the feeling passed, and the unusual ‘nothing’ returned.

She lay in the bed and pulled the covers right up to her neck, so only her face was peeking out. The bed wasn’t like Skye’s at home. Skye’s bed at home was always warm and cosy, and it had her special fluffy blue blanket, and Mr. Snow was there to cuddle. Skye curled her cold fingers into loose fists and tried to pretend she wasn’t back in this horrible place, that she was at home with Mommy and Daddy. But it was too hard to pretend, and with every movement of her hands or twitch of her toes, the feeling of the scratchy sheets and lumpy bed brought her back to reality.

A little while after Skye had almost cried, the feeling happened again, and this time she did cry. Skye cried hard, making her whole body jerk with the effort of the sobs. There were too many things to cry about, and Skye could barely even focus on one at a time before thoughts of the next thing flooded her little head, and a new wave of sorrow overcame her.

Mommy. Daddy. Natasha. Bobbi. Mommy. Natasha. Hunter. Daddy. Daddy. Mommy. Clint. Mommy. Natasha. Bobbi. Daddy. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy. Baby. Thomas. Grant. Mommy. Baby. Mommy.

Skye wanted to go home.

The door to the room opened and Sister Margaret poked her head in. Skye shrank back under the blankets and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

“Breakfast?” Sister Margaret asked.

Skye could hear the sounds of the younger children in the background, some laughing, some chattering, the wail of one of the younger ones. She shook her head and the nun sighed.

“So you’re not going to eat?” She snapped.

Skye shook her head again.

Sister Margaret grumbled. “More trouble than you’re worth.” She left and pulled the door closed after her, making Skye jump when it slammed.

Skye sat up in the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to go home. She wanted her Mommy and Daddy to come and get her and to take her home and read her stories and play with the Barbies with her.

Her tummy hurt a lot and Skye didn’t know why. It just did. Her wrist felt itchy under the cast and there was nothing Skye could so about it, so she cried.

It was a long time before anyone else came into the room where Skye was staying, and when they did, Skye was in the tiny little bathroom off to the side of the room. It wasn’t a very nice bathroom, and once Sister Jane had told Skye that it used to be a closet, and that’s why it was so small, but Skye didn’t mind. It was small and smelled a little, but she didn’t have to leave the bedroom to go to the bathroom, and when someone entered the bedroom, Skye could hear them clearly.

“Skye?” The person, Abby, called. “Are you in there?” There was a gentle knock on the door.

Skye wasn’t going to answer. She didn’t want to talk to Abby, she had taken her away from Mommy and Daddy, but then Abby knocked again.

“Skye? Everything alright?”

“Yes.” Skye said quietly, even though she was having a little difficulty washing her hands because she wasn’t meant to get the cast wet. “I’m just washing my hands.”

“Okay.” Abby said. “I’ll wait out here for you.”

It took a little effort to not get the soap on the cast, but after a couple of minutes, Skye opened the bathroom door and shuffled out.

“Hey.” Abby smiled at her.

“Hi.”

Abby was sitting on the bed, the blankets had been smoothed out and folded neatly at the bottom of the mattress. It was what Skye was supposed to do, but hadn’t. Abby had a pile of things on her lap and there was a plastic tray with a juice box and some chips and candy on it. Skye frowned. They _never_ got candy and chips at the orphanage, so Abby must have brought them in from home.

“You feel guilty.” Skye said, leaning against the closed door of the bathroom. Abby raised an eyebrow in question and Skye nodded at the tray. “Candy.” She said.

Abby sighed. “I just thought you deserved a treat.”

“Thanks.” Skye mumbled but made no move towards the food. Her tummy hurt pretty bad still, and she thought part of it may have been because she hadn’t eaten in a long time, but Skye didn’t want Abby’s food. She didn’t want Abby to feel better by giving Skye presents.

“I brought you these, too.” Abby said, moving to sit on the floor and spread out the things on her lap. “I thought you might be bored.”

Skye craned her neck to see all of the items on the carpet, without moving any closer. From what she could tell it was a selection of activity books with stickers and pens. A couple of them looked new, but most of them had the tell-tale signs of wear and tear that meant they had most likely been liberated from the common room of St Agnes’. Skye didn’t say thank you this time.

“You’re mad at me.” Abby said, and Skye looked at her feet.

“Yeah, I am.” She said. The socks were grubby from walking around the hospital in them. “I’m more mad at you than I’ve ever been in my whole life.”

“That’s a lot.” Abby said.

“Yeah.”

Abby walked over and kneeled in front of her. “I’m sorry, Skye.” She said, and Skye glanced up at her. She wasn’t wearing any make-up and her hair was tied back messily with bumps in the hair where it was usually smooth and sleek. “I wish I hadn’t had to take you away.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because my boss told me I had to.”

Skye frowned. “If your boss told you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

Abby chuckled. “That’s different, and you know it.”

“I want to go home.” Skye said, and her lip began quivering, no matter how much she tried to stop it.

Abby put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m working on it, okay? I’m really trying.”

“Try harder.”

Abby gave her a silly salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Abby left Skye alone in the room once more, although this time Skye had the food and craft things to entertain her a little. She really didn’t want Abby’s presents, but her tummy hurt and she really was thirsty, so Skye allowed herself the juice box and a bag of chips. She found herself practically inhaling the food, but refused to eat the candy out of principal. Plus, Mommy didn’t let Skye have candy so early in the morning.

Skye ignored the activity books that appeared to be new, even though one of them had really cool silvery space stickers attached to the front of it, and instead flicked through some of the used colouring books. Most of the pages were either ripped or had scribbles on them, so Skye hoarded the selection of felt-tips that worked, and tucked herself into the corner of the room to begin drawing on her cast. 

…

Bobbi had known Lance Hunter for five years. She had known Tony Stark for a little longer, and all three of them had hung out an awful lot together in that time. They had had some pretty weird nights. When Bobbi was twenty three, Tony had decided one night at two in the morning that it was entirely necessary to fly to Vegas to buy a very specific type of tequila from a hotel there. Bobbi and Hunter had been dragged along (perhaps not too unwillingly) with him, and ended up awakening in the bathroom of a Denny’s in Austin, Texas sixteen hours later. Even that night was only top five.

This night however, had been the weirdest that Bobbi had ever spent with Hunter and Tony, for entirely different reasons.

“It doesn’t look real.” Hunter was arguing with Tony, both guys bent over several sheets of paper on the dining room table of a house that Bobbi hadn’t even been aware Tony had owned.

“It’s fine.” Tony huffed. “Look.” He held up two sets of documents, both almost identical aside from the names on them, and pushed them into Bobbi’s face. “Can you tell the difference?” Tony asked her.

Bobbi inspected the two sheets of paper. Apparently they were deeds to the house, or at least the one with Tony’s name on was, the other, featuring the full names and signatures of her and Hunter, was a forged copy. She ran her finger over the notarised stamp on the illegal forgery that Tony had got there with some computer magic. Bobbi wasn’t particularly well-versed in home deed forgeries, but this one looked pretty legit to her.

“It looks the same to me.” She said.

Tony grinned. “See,” he said to Hunter, “you’re just being paranoid. As far as anyone can tell, you two have owned this house for the past three years,” Tony held up the deed, “and you’ve both got _incredible_ credit scores,” he picked up another couple of papers, “ _and_ you’re even on the Stark Industries payroll, so you’ve both got jobs that can sustain a lifestyle with a kid.”

Hunter nodded and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. They hadn’t slept yet, none of them, although it seemed Tony was faring better than either Bobbi or Hunter were, despite the lack of caffeine he had ingested.

“We need to go get groceries.” Bobbi said with that train of thought. Both men looked at her blankly. “Lance, when you called Abby this morning you said she said she was sending someone around to ‘inspect’ us.”

“Yeah?” Hunter said.

“Yeah. That means they’re going to look at more than house deeds and credit scores. They need to walk in here,” she held her arm outstretched, “and it needs to look lived-in. We need food in the cupboards and shit like that.”

Tony nodded and began tapping away at his phone. “On it.”

Bobbi sat down on the pristine grey velvet couch and dropped her head into her hands. “What if this doesn’t work?”

Hunter sat down next to her and wrapped his arm sound her shoulders. Bobbi leaned into him automatically and he laced his fingers with hers. “It’ll work.” He said quietly. He dropped his voice even lower. “I have faith in Tony.”

Bobbi smirked at him. “Me, too. But we can never tell him that.”

“Never.” Lance agreed.

She kissed his cheek and let herself relax into the plush cushions of the sofa. Despite the exhaustion, Bobbi was simply too wired to sleep. Hunter, too, appeared to be in the same boat. His eyes had dark circles under them, but his foot was tapping on the rug incessantly.

Hunter’s foot-tapping was irritating, but the man was finding things just as difficult as Bobbi, if not more so given the unquestionable feelings regarding his little sister the whole situation was dredging up, so Bobbi just let him be. She ignored the tapping best she could, distracting herself with an inspection of the house.

It was a nice house, small, discreet, in a quiet area only a short distance from her parents’ neighbourhood. The house wasn’t anything special from the outside, and inside, it was just as ordinary with a pale décor. It was everything Tony Stark wasn’t.

“How did you end up with this house, anyway?” Bobbi asked, looking over at the table where Tony was still tapping away on his phone.

He didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, just continued to pay attention to his phone, then looked up at Bobbi with a shrug. “Long story.”

“I want to know.” She said. “Since this _is_ my house now.”

“ _Our_ house.” Hunter reminded her.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Your house _temporarily_.”

“But, it’s just so not you.” Bobbi said. She rubbed the velvet on the arm of the couch the wrong way, making the colour a shade darker. “I mean, I assume this couch is expensive-,”

“Twelve thousand dollars.” Tony said.

“Holy fuck.” Hunter muttered.

“-but,” Bobbi continued, “why would you buy a house here, in this neighbourhood, and why would you buy something so small?”

“Two bedrooms?” Hunter smirked. “Your kid’s room’s practically bigger than this whole house. Or so I assume.”

Tony smiled. “I’d like to be able to tell you that I bought this house, in this area, in this size, because I was planning for my future and I wanted my children to grow up normal and go to the local school and play in the playground.”

Bobbi blinked at him. “That’s really nice, Tony.”

Tony scoffed. “I said I’d _like_ to tell you that. I would. But the God’s honest truth is that sometimes when you’re a billionaire you get drunk and browse real estate and then before you know it you wake up with a killer hangover and an extra house.” He shrugged. “Happens.”

“Sometimes,” Bobbi sighed, “I think that you’ve really grown up and that you’re truly a good man, and then other times you do things like buy houses when you’re drunk.”

“To be fair,” Tony said, standing from the table and wandering over to plonk himself in an armchair that Bobbi didn’t even want to consider the retail price of, “I bought this four years ago. I’ve grown since _then._ ”

“He has.” Lance confirmed. “I’m not sure he would have committed fraud for us four years ago.”

Bobbi tipped her head. Lance wasn’t wrong about that.

“We’ve still got a few hours until that inspector is supposed to be coming over.” Tony said. “What do you guys want to do?”

“Food shopping?” Hunter suggested, and Tony shook his head.

“Having it all delivered because I’ve grown and I’m a better human than I was four years ago.” He gave Bobbi and poignant look.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “Really, thank you, Tony. We could never have done this without you.”

“Skye needs her family.” Tony said with uncharacteristic sincerity.

“Yeah.” Lance agreed. “She’ll be okay. We all will.”

He squeezed her hand, and when Bobbi looked at her husband, she truly believed him.

“We’ll be okay.”

…

Although Natasha and Clint had vowed to stay with Mel and Phil in the hospital, Natasha was ever so slightly regretting the promise when she realised that there was no wifi and the only reading material available in the hospital room was the lunch menu, which, as it happened, was not good entertainment. Despite this, Clint had taken to reading the food choices aloud to the people in the room. Natasha was one more ‘ooh, and you can get a little cup of jello’ away from having a mental breakdown.

“Well,” Clint said, flicking through the hospital menu for what Nat thought _had_ to be the third time, “Mel, you can have soup and a sandwich. That’s a pretty good lunch.” Clint nodded to himself and Nat watched as her mother and father rolled their eyes at each other. “I mean, for a hospital, it’s pretty good.”

He was trying to distract everyone from Skye’s absence. It was working to an extent, but Nat caught sight of her mom squeezing her eyes closed and frowning every so often. Everyone was worried.

“Clint.” Her dad said.

“Yeah?” He looked up from the menu.

“Go home.” Her dad turned to Nat. “You, too. The two of you are not good at disguising your boredom.”

“No, Dad. We’re not leaving until you guys do.”

Her mother smiled. “That’s very kind of you, but honestly I’d feel better knowing that you’re both home safe.” She held out a hand to Nat, and Natasha tucked herself next to her mother on the bed. “Go home, baby.” Her mother kissed her cheek. “Please.”

Nat wanted to tell her ‘no’ that she was staying, but the eyes her mom was giving her and the pleading looks from her father, had Natasha relenting. She glanced over at Clint. He pressed his lips together and gave a little shrug.

“Are you forcing us to go home?” Nat asked.

Her mom shifted in the bed, grimacing slightly but waving Tasha off when she tried to help. “I’m not _forcing_ you. I’m just saying I would much prefer it if you were at home.”

“But, Mom-,”

“Please, Nat.” Her mom said. “Skye’s in a place she shouldn’t be, Bobbi and Hunter are off doing God knows what, and you and Clint are here wasting away. Please. Go home, eat, rest. I’ll feel much better.”

Natasha groaned. “You’re guilt tripping us.”

Her dad shook his head. “Please. We’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Fine.” Nat sighed. “Fine. We’ll go. But we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Her dad smiled. “Fair enough.”

Natasha glanced around the hospital room, making mental note of the things they needed to take with them. She grimaced a little when she realised the only thing she and Clint had with them to take home was her dirty hoodie in the plastic bad hung at the foot of her mother’s bed. Well, that and her shoes that she had abandoned three hours into their stay.

“I’ll call us a cab. Clint said, taking his phone out of his pocket and tapping at the screen.

Nat nodded, slipping on her sneakers, and turned back to her parents. Her dad was picking at the sleeve of his hospital pyjamas with a look of distain.

“I’ll bring you guys some clothes when we come back.” Natasha told them, bending down to tie her shoes. “Anything else you need?”

“Mel?” Her dad said. “Anything else?”

“Mm? No. just-,” her mom made a little grunt, “just, um, clothes. Yeah.”

“Mel? Are you okay?” Her dad asked, and Nat finishing tying her shoes and stood up.

Her Mom was hunched over on the hospital bed, her face screwed up and her eyes tight shut. “Mom?”

“Melinda?” Her dad placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder and she shook her head quickly. “What’s the matter?”

“Something’s wrong.” Her mom said, eyes still closed. She gasped and her arms wrapped around her stomach. “Something’s wrong, Phil.”

Natasha looked from her mother, to her father, to Clint and back again. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.” Her mother ground out. “It just…hurts.”

“W-what can I do?” Nat asked. She curled her hands around the metal railing on the bed. “Mom?”

Her mother’s breath stuttered and she reached out to grab her dad. “Phil. Something’s not right. It hurts.”

“What hurts? Melinda, tell me.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “My stomach. It-God-it hurts. It’s not right. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Clint squeezed Nat’s elbow. “I’ll go get a doctor.”

Natasha wanted to tell him to run, to get someone to help as fast as possible because she couldn’t stand to see her mother in pain, but he was gone in such a flash that by the time the thoughts even manifested in her brain, he was out of the room.

“Phil,” her mom gasped, “I’m scared.”

“It’ okay,” he said, “Clint’s gone for help.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Natasha bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. “Tell you what, Dad?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Melinda, please, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, it’s not.” She cried. “It’s getting worse, Phil. I’m so sorry.”

Nat’s dad was bent over the bed, a position that she was sure must have been incredibly painful with his broken ribs, but his focus was all on her mother. He stroked her hair and kissed her cheeks and whispered to her in the soft voice Nat herself had been on the receiving end of when she had been sick in the past. He was helping, or trying to best he could, while her mother writhed and gasped in pain, gripping at her stomach.

Natasha just stood there. She didn’t know what to do. Clint was finding a doctor, even he was helping, but Natasha just stood by the bedside and tried not to cry. She wanted to go, to run away and come back later when everything was fixed and her mom was better, wasn’t scared and crying. Nat felt frightened. She didn’t know what to do, or how to help.

Bobbi would know. Bobbi always seemed to know what to do, even when they were younger and Nat was still in high school, she always went to Bobbi for help before either of her parents.

At sixteen, Natasha had found herself in a history class with a certain Mr Sitwell, who had taken an immediate dislike to her, and so had been nasty and unkind in his lessons. Nat had grown up in less than ideal circumstances in Russia, and then had been schooled at home for the better part of six months before attending _actual_ school, so her experience with teachers and state education was limited at best, but even she could tell Mr Sitwell was not a ‘good’ teacher.

He had singled her out in lessons when she hadn’t known the answers, and called her ‘ignorant’ when her lack of knowledge surrounding American history had shown, and the man made it no secret that he was simply not a fan of her heritage. Six and a half weeks into Sitwell’s torturous lessons, and Natasha had been praising herself for keeping her cool and ignoring his nasty comments towards her, instead focusing on her studies. She hadn’t bothered to complain to her parents, not wanted to give them anything else to worry about, what with her already being on a constant behavioural report with school anyway. But one day, her time with Mr Sitwell had reached a climax.

They were learning about the Cold War, a lesson that was not technically in the syllabus for their grade, but that Sitwell had taken to teaching them anyway. He was making a list on the white board of the reasons the US had won the Cold War. Natasha was trying her best to keep her mouth shut, and not to tell Sitwell that technically the Cold War hadn’t really been ‘won’ by either country, when her name had been called.

“Natasha.” Sitwell had said. “You’re Russian.”

“Yes.” She had answered, glaring at the teacher’s stupid glasses.

“So could you explain to the class what communism is?”

Natasha had been taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

“Com-u-nis-m.” Sitwell had said slowly, like she hadn’t been able to understand his words. “Tell us what it is.”

She had frowned at him. “Why should I have to explain it? Because I am from Russia?”

“Yes.” He had said, without pause. “Because you’re a communist.”

It had taken every ounce of Natasha’s strength not to vault over her desk and slam Sitwell’s smarmy face into his pathetic list on the whiteboard. She hadn’t been able to stay in the room, though. The rest of the students ‘ooh-ed’ as she stormed out of the room and half ran to the bathrooms, locking herself in a cubicle. Natasha had called the only person she knew could always help, the person she relied on sometimes more than even her parents.

Bobbi had answered before the third ring, and Nat had explained the situation without punching a hole through the door.

“Don’t hit him.” Bobbi had said immediately after. “I know you want to, _I_ want to, too, but it won’t solve anything.”

“Okay.” Nat had said.

“Here’s what you do. You go back in that classroom, and show that fucktard what being Russian is _really_ about.”

And Nat had done. She had quietly gone back into the classroom, sat down, and then for the following six months of her history class had glared menacingly at Sitwell and only answered his questions in Russian. She had got a B+ in the end, and Natasha had vowed to _always_ take her sister’s advice, because that girl knew her stuff.

But that had been in school, when the worst of Natasha’s problems had been her hold on her anger and mean teachers. It was nothing like the situation unfolding in front of her now.

Clint still wasn’t back, her mom’s groans and gasps were becoming even more frantic, and the only thing that Nat could think to do was call her sister. It made no sense and logically Natasha knew Bobbi couldn’t really help when she wasn’t one, a doctor, and two, in the room in person, but she still found herself tapping in the familiar number and waiting for Bobbi’s answer before the third ring.

“ _Nat? Everything okay?_ ”

“No. Bobbi, I don’t know what to do.” Nat said quickly, voice raising over the pained noises from her mother. “Mom’s crying.”

“ _What? Why?_ ”

“She’s hurt, she’s- Clint went to get a doctor but- Bobbi- what do I- I don’t know-,”

“ _Calm down._ ” Bobbi told her. “ _Breathe. Don’t get panicked. Right now you need to be calm._ ”

Natasha took two deep breaths. “I’m calm.”

“ _No, you’re not._ ” Bobbi said. “ _But that’s okay. Just tell me, what’s happening?_ ”

“Mom just started crying and she says her stomach hurts.” Nat said, worriedly peering at the tears still streaming down her mother’s cheeks.

“ _You need to get the doctor._ ”

“Clint went for the doctor!” Nat snapped. “Bobbi, what do I do?”

There was a pause on the line, and their mom gave a particularly pained cry.

“ _I don’t know, Natasha._ ” Bobbi said quietly. “ _I’m not there._ ”

Tasha bit down hard on the inside of her mouth. “Help me.”

“ _I don’t know how._ ” Bobbi said. There was some mumbling and rustling on her side of the phone, as she seemed to be briefly explaining the situation to whoever was with her.

Nat waited for a few seconds, keeping the phone pressed against her ear and trying to ignore the pained sounds coming from her mother. She glared at the door, willing Clint to return with a doctor, a nurse, with _anyone_ who could help. It felt as though he had been away for ages, but a glance at the clock on the wall told her differently.

There was a shuffle on Bobbi’s end of the phone, and then Hunter’s voice was in Nat’s ear. “ _Put it on speaker.”_ He said with an authority Natasha wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“What?”

“ _Speaker_.” He repeated. “ _Put the bloody phone on speaker_.”

She did as he requested and then awkwardly held the phone out in front of her. “Okay.”

“ _I’m on speaker?”_ Hunter asked and Nat nodded when both of her parents looked towards the sound of his voice. “ _Yes? Speaker? Everyone can hear me?”_

“Um, yeah.” Nat said. “Sorry. Yeah, they can hear you.”

“ _Right, good._ ” He said. “ _Mel, listen I have no idea what’s going on but Bob’s crying now and apparently Tash is freaking out and seriously, I don’t know what to do.”_

Nat’s mom, through her pain, managed to roll her eyes at Hunter. She gritted her teeth. “Lance Hunter what is freaking point? I am in a lot of pain and I’m scared.”

“ _I didn’t really have a point to be honest._ ” Hunter mumbled. “ _Pain? Wait you’re in pain? What kind of pain? Where’s the bloody doctors?”_

Natasha glared at the phone. “Clint is getting the doctor!”

“ _Well, good.”_ Hunter said. _“What kind of pain?”_ He asked again, this time a little more urgently.

“Stomach.” Her dad answered, brushing the hair away from her mother’s eyes. “She says her stomach hurts.”

“ _Fucking hell.”_ Lance breathed. “ _Get the doctor, she needs a doctor.”_

“I _know_ that.” Nat’s dad snapped.

“ _It might be the baby.”_ Lance said, and Nat stared at the phone in her hand.

“The what?” She asked, glancing at the blank expression on her father’s face.

Hunter sighed. “ _The baby. Mel’s pregnant._ ”

The hospital room door opened, and in stormed a doctor with two nurses by his side and a worried looking Clint trailing after them. Natasha gaped at the phone in her hand. The call was still going, the numbers on the screen steadily counting up, but anything Hunter was still saying was drowned out by the voices of the doctor and the nurses.

The male nurse pushed Nat out of the way and asked her to wait outside but she just moved back to stand by Clint next to the armchair. Clint held her hand tightly and Nat continued to grip the phone in the other. Her mind was blank aside from the events unfolding in front of her. She watched as the doctor gave orders to the two nurses and began questioning her mother. He was feeling her stomach, pressing down on various areas and nodding whenever she spoke.

“Did you hear that?” Nat asked Clint. She kept her eyes on her mom and when Clint failed to answer she put her phone under her arm and awkwardly signed the question with one hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, lots of sounds going on.” He said. “Nothing’s very clear.” Clint poked at his ear with his free hand. “Hear what?”

“What Hunter said.” She signed it as she spoke.

“Hunter?” Clint tugged on her hand until she looked at him. A nurse wheeled a machine into the room and various things began beeping. The same nurse frowned at them and began pushing them out of the door.

“I want to stay.” Nat argued. “That’s my Mom.”

“No family in the room.” The nurse snapped and closed the door behind them.

Natasha frowned and sat down on the floor of the hallway, Clint following. She unlaced her fingers from Clint’s and pulled her phone from under her arm. The call was still going and when she held the phone up to her ear Natasha could hear the familiar, and weirdly comforting sounds of Bobbi and Hunter arguing.

“I’m going to hang up now.” She told the phone and ended the call. It was probably unfair to bother her sister and her husband, and would probably worry them endlessly, but Nat found she could barely focus on one thing at a time and having the responsibility of keeping them updated in real time seemed too difficult.

She pushed her phone into her back pocket and reached out to turn Clint’s face to hers. “Hunter was on the phone.” She said clearly, avoiding biting her mouth so that Clint could read her lips to aid her signing. The hallway was significantly quieter, but there was still a multitude of sounds coming from various directions and she was all too aware of how several inputs could influence Clint’s hearing. “He said that Mom is,” Nat paused, suddenly unsure of the sign that she hadn’t really found a need to learn before, “pregnant.” She finished, just guessing and miming a rounded stomach with both hands.

Clint’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline. “Like, with a baby?” He asked.

Nat would have mocked him for his stupid question, but if he was experiencing even a fraction of the shock and trauma that she was feeling at that moment, then his brain short-circuit was perfectly acceptable.

“I assume with a baby.” She answered. “I don’t even know if she is. I mean, if she _is_ how would Hunter know? Bobbi didn’t seem to know. And she wouldn’t lie to me about that.”

“Maybe he was kidding?” Clint suggested. “You know, some weird British humour, or something.”

“It didn’t sound like he was joking.” Natasha sighed and shuffled closer to Clint. “This has been the strangest twenty-four hours of my entire life.” She said. “And _I_ once punched a nun in the face.”

Clint grinned and kissed her. “You’re special.”

She smiled but found that she just couldn’t hold it. “I’m worried about Mom.”

“I am, too.” Clint said. “But the doctors know what they’re doing. They’ll make her better. That’s their job. They’re _paid_ to make people better.”

“Or to call time.” Nat mumbled and Clint pinched her cheek.

“None of that.” He said. “Mom will be okay. She’s always okay.” Clint shrugged. “And hey, on the bright side, this has given us a distraction from worrying about Skye.”

Natasha grimaced. “Thanks Clint, now I’m concerned about my baby sister, too. Urg, this whole thing is a mess.”

“Maybe you should call Hunter back?” Clint said quietly. “They’ll be worried, too.”

She considered it for a few moments before shaking her head. “No. I just need to not do anything for a little while.”

“Okay.” He nodded and wrapped an arm around her. “We can do that.”

…

Bobbi looked up from the silent cell phone in Hunter’s hand, to her husband’s guilty face. He smiled warily at her.

“What the _fuck_ , Hunter? My mother is _pregnant_ and you tell me like this?” She punched his shoulder, hard.

“Sorry, love.” He apologised. “But it was a secret. It wasn’t really mine to tell.”

“How did you even find that out?”

Hunter ran a hand through his short hair. “If I told you I was eavesdropping from a tree, would you be mad at me?”

Bobbi groaned and walked away. If she didn’t have enough to be concerned about with Skye, she now had her idiot husband and her pregnant mother to consider, as well as her seemingly hysterical little sister.

Tony Stark stood by the living room door. “What’s going on?” He asked her.

Bobbi held out both hands in defeat. “I don’t even know anymore.”

…

Skye was pleased to find that after Abby left, she wasn’t disturbed by anyone else and was left to doodle on her arm’s cast in peace. It had been a little difficult to start with, but once she found a comfortable position to rest her left arm against her knees, it became a little easier and Skye was content to quietly draw on her arm. She still felt a little weary drawing and colouring, memories of Miss Macy ripping up her card pricking in the back of her mind, but Skye had new memories now to think of. She thought about the special sign on her bedroom door at home that Bobbi had made, and of the picture she had drawn for Nat and Clint with spiders and dogs on it.

So far she had managed to draw a line of little people, not like Bobbi’s drawings that looked like photographs, but little smiley stick figures that represented each person in her family. Skye had drawn Mommy and Daddy, then had changed colours to draw Natasha and Clint and Bobbi and Hunter. She smiled at her work and began using the green pen to colour grass at the feet of her family.

She would much rather be left alone in the room than be forced to go out into the common areas and interact with the other children. Skye hadn’t really been gone from the orphanage for all that long, but coming back and seeing not only the kids that were still there, but also the inevitable wave of new children who had arrived, always unnerved her. It was a reminder that Skye wasn’t alone, that she wasn’t the only kid who was being passed around like a stray dog. It didn’t make her feel any better, just sadder for the other children in similar positions.

She picked up the dark blue pen and began drawing Lucky the dog next to Clint’s feet. He looked a little like a kitty, but Skye was still proud of herself. Lulu was easier to draw, but she ended up being almost the same size as Natasha when Skye was done. She giggled to herself as she imagined what Mommy would do if she saw a spider _that_ big.

Someone knocked at the door.

Skye shuffled further into the corner of the room. She didn’t want to be forced to go out and see the other kids.

Whoever it was, was very patient because after a few moments they knocked again. Three hard wraps. Skye waited for them to burst in, braced herself for what she felt was the inevitable fight to remain on her own in the room, but nothing came. It was quiet, and then once more, three knocks.

Curiosity, more than anything got the better of Skye, and she left the pens to stand up and slowly cross the room to the door. Somewhere outside a kid started screaming, a tantrum scream, Skye could tell. The noise of the child faded away as someone either consoled them or ignored them long enough for the tantrum to become more work than the result was worth.

Three more knocks.

Skye reached out with her good hand, and opened the door. On the other side was someone Skye had never seen before, someone she immediately decided she didn’t like.

“Thank goodness,” the man said, “I thought I was going to be stood out here all day.”

He stepped into the room and closed the door gently behind him. Skye stumbled back over to her corner of the room with the pens and sat down. She eyed the scary man cautiously. He was a large man, tall and imposing with a long black leather jacket and an eye patch that Skye couldn’t stop staring at.

“Hello, Skye.” The man said. He sat down on the bottom bunk of the bed and it creaked loudly under his weight. He hunched over slightly to avoid banging his head. It would have been funny if he hadn’t been so scary.

“Hello.” Skye said quietly. She sat down on the floor and folded her legs like they did at school. The man clasped his hands together. He seemed like he was pretty important. “Am I in trouble?”

He frowned. “Why would you think that? Have you done something wrong?”

Skye hesitated. “I-I don’t think so.” She said. “But you look like you’re going to tell me off for something.”

“Well I’m not.” The man said. His voice was gravelly and deep, but the more he spoke, the less Skye found herself feeling intimidated. “My name is Nick Fury.” Nick held out his hand to her and Skye shuffled forward on the carpet to shake it.

“I’m Skye.” She said. “But I guess you already knew that.”

“I did. I was called here by Abby. She told me you’ve had a rough time.”

Skye rubbed her fingers over the little stick family on her cast. “You could say that.”

Nick smiled. “I’m here to help, Skye.”

“That’s what everyone says.” She huffed. “If you wanna help me then take me back to my Mommy and Daddy.” Skye sighed. “That’s all I want.”

Nick Fury pushed himself down to sit on the floor by Skye. His long legs looked funny all cramped up when he crossed them and his jacket got all crumpled. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“I want nothing more than to be able to get you back safe and happy with your family.” Nick said. “But here’s the catch.”

“There’s _always_ a catch.” Skye grumbled.

“I need to ask you a few questions. Some about what it’s like at home, some about your family.”

Skye cocked her head at Nick. “Like an interview?”

“I like to think of it as more of a controlled conversation.”

“A conversation means that I get to ask you questions, too.”

Nick grinned and Skye marvelled at how just a few minutes ago the man had seemed so scary. “Fair enough. Why don’t you ask first?”

“Okay.” Skye studied Nick Fury, letting her eyes roam the worn leather of his coat, up to the black eye patch. She looked up at him seriously. “Are you a pirate?”

Nick laughed. “I’m not, no.”

“A spy?”

He smirked. “I’m a social worker.”

Skye gawked at him. “ _You’re_ a social worker? But you look nothing like Abby.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t all look the same.”

She nodded. “Sure don’t.”

“If it makes it any more believable, I used to be principal of a high school before I did this job.”

“I guess I can believe that.” Skye shrugged. “But you look more like the principal of a prison.”

He chuckled. “Moving on, I need to ask you about your family.”

“I love my family.” Skye said immediately. “All of them. Even Hunter.”

“Hunter? Lance Hunter?”

“Mmhm.” Skye nodded. “He’s my sister Bobbi’s husband. He’s pretty funny.”

Nick nodded and scratched his chin. “Bobbi and Hunter. You like them?”

“I love them.”

“Good, good.” Nick smiled. “And what do you think of their house?”

Skye frowned. “Their house? What house?”

Nick Fury’s expression changed minutely, but he schooled it so quickly that Skye didn’t have the opportunity to register it. “The house that Bobbi and Hunter own.”

Skye giggled. Nick was silly. “Bobbi and Hunter don’t own a house.”

“They don’t?”

“No.” Skye smiled. “They live with us in my Mommy and Daddy’s house because they moved here from England and now they’ve got no money.”

Nick nodded. “Good to know.”

“Yeah. Bobbi’s got Captain America sheets on her bed.”

Nick grinned. “ _Great_ to know.”

Skye tapped her drawing of her Mommy on her cast. In the picture, Mommy was smiling brightly back at her and she had a flower in her hair. “Is it my turn to ask a question now?” She asked.

“Go ahead.”

Skye looked up from her cast. Nick was smiling at her; he nodded for her to ask her question.

“When can I go home, please?”

His face softened and the smile became apologetic. Nick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m doing my best. Really, I’m trying.”

“Abby said that, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m bigger, better and more important than Abby, so I can really move things along.” Nick said. “Seriously, I’m kind of the big cheese around here.”

“Cheese?”

“Never mind. Just know that I’m going to get you home, Skye. I am.” Nick Fury seemed much more confident that Abby, and maybe it was the impact of his eye patch and leather jacket, but Skye truly believed him.

“Nick Fury?”

“Yes, Skye?”

“Get me outta this dump.”

He grinned and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Abby does that, too.”

“Yeah, who do you think taught her it?” Nick said.

Skye decided that she liked Nick Fury. “Hey Nick?”

“Yes, Skye?”

“Are you _sure_ you’re not a spy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo, what did you think? :)


	23. Skye's Unhappy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the giant wait between the last chapter and this one but I was away on my holidays. Back now, though! 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, and points for anyone who can pick out the superhero cameo from the comics (without googling- you cheaters XD).

Phil Coulson had never been so confused and terrified at the same time, in his entire life. Ever.

He had been scared, terrified, before. Like the time Bobbi hadn’t come home from school when she was thirteen and it had taken five and a half hours to track her down to some out of the way park where she had tagged along with some older kids from the high school. Those five and a half hours had been terrifying, because Phil literally had no idea where to find his little girl, and with every passing minute he had thought of new and horrible things that might have happened to her.

Phil had been extremely confused before, too. When Phil Coulson was eighteen, Melinda May had agreed to marry him. Frankly, Phil will still confused as to why she had said ‘yes’.

But despite his separate experiences of both confusion and being terrified, he had never felt the two emotions so strongly at the same time, as he had in the hospital room as his wife writhed around on the bed while the doctor began frantically checking the health of his unborn baby. The unborn child that Phil had had _no_ idea about, until his son-in-law had announced it to the room over the phone.

Talk about a weird morning.

Phil stroked a thumb over the back of Melinda’s hand and she smiled at him. The nurses had hooked her back up to some sort of fluids, and after some calming from Doctor Banner and an injection into her thigh, Melinda had relaxed significantly and allowed the Doctor to check her over.

“If I press here?” Doctor Banner asked, pushing down on part of Melinda’s abdomen.

She shook her head. “No. Doesn’t hurt.”

“At all?” The doctor asked.

“At all.” Mel said. “Nothing hurts anymore.” She squeezed Phil’s hand and he squeezed back.

Doctor Banner smiled and nodded. “I know that little episode must have been frightening-,”

Mel scoffed. “You think?”

The doctor smirked. “Sorry if that sounded insensitive. Sorry.”

Phil cleared his throat. “It seemed like more than a ‘little episode’.” He said, looking down at his wife. Her hair was still damp from the sweat induced by said ‘episode’. “Mel was really in a lot of pain. And, um, the baby, well, I mean…”

Banner nodded. “I understand you were both very worried. That’s understandable.”

Mel put a hand on her bare belly but moved it when one of the nurses began squirting gel onto her stomach. “You told me the baby was fine.” She said quietly, looking to Bruce Banner.

“I know.” He said. “And I stand by it.”

She grimaced. “Well, that _episode_ didn’t feel ‘fine’. It felt like my insides were trying to claw their way out of me.”

Phil made a pained face at the mental image.

“Stress is a powerful thing, stress and trauma, especially in early pregnancy. It often causes cramps, pains, phantom discomfort-,”

“I can assure you,” Melinda grumbled, “ _that_ was anything but phantom.”

Banner gestured to one of the nurses and she switched off the lights in the room, leaving the only source emitting from the screen at the side of the bed. Phil watched in fascination as the doctor pressed the wand against his wife’s belly and the blurry image appeared on screen.

“Deja vu, huh?” Banner said to Mel. She didn’t crack a smile and man coughed and turned back to the screen. “Sorry. Now isn’t the time for jokes.” Banner began humming to himself, moving the wand over Mel’s skin and watching the screen. “Thirteen weeks, perfect size. Great.”

“Great?” Phil repeated. He had to crane his neck a little to see the blurry image of his baby on the screen, but in addition to that he had literally no experience with babies in the womb and had no idea what he was meant to be looking _for_. His stomach tightened. “Great as in the baby is okay?”

“Yeah.” Banner said, and Phil felt Mel relax next to him.

She stared at the screen. “I thought the pain meant something, um, something bad was happening.”

“Well it wasn’t ideal.” Doctor Banner said. “And your worry wasn’t entirely unjust, but I think it was a physical manifestation of your stress.”

Melinda nodded. “So,” she said quietly, “the baby is okay? I wasn’t having a…” She trailed off.

Banner turned away from the screen and smiled kindly at them both. Phil didn’t know the man well, but he had taken good care of himself and Melinda, and apparently of their baby. God, baby. Phil was going to have a baby.

“You weren’t having a miscarriage.” The doctor said. The word sounded scientific, matter of fact, coming from Banner’s mouth, but it still made both Phil and Melinda cringe. “Now we know that the pain was as a result of your trauma and stress, we can take action to make sure that it never happens again, okay.”

“Okay.” Mel said.

“Good.” Doctor Banner said and turned to Phil. “I can only assume that this discovery of your wife’s pregnancy was perhaps not idyllic, but I can try to make things a little happier for you.”

Phil shrugged. “I don’t think the day could get any weirder, might as well try to make it happier.”

Mel rubbed her fingers over his palm.

Banner flicked a button, turned a dial, and then the room was filled with the steady thump of his baby’s heartbeat, growing inside of his wife’s belly. Phil’s mouth went dry, and for a second, nothing but that tiny life’s heartbeat existed in the universe.

“That’s, that’s the baby?” Phil asked.

“Sure is.” Banner said. “You’re going to be a Daddy.”

Phil chuckled and grinned at Melinda. She had silent tears streaming down her cheeks. “I already am a Daddy.” Phil smiled.

“Of course.” Banner said. “I meant a Daddy _again_.”

He kissed Melinda on the lips, bumping her nose with his and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “You’ve got a baby in there.” He said dumbly.

She sniffed. “I am so sorry I didn’t tell you. But it didn’t think you wanted another kid, and-,”

Phil kissed his wife again. “You stop that.” He said seriously. “No saying ‘sorry.’ We’re having a _baby._ Mel. ”

“You’re happy about it?” She asked.

Phil grinned. “So, so happy.”

Doctor Banner stopped the sound of the baby’s heartbeat, and all at once the room became too quiet with the absence of his youngest child. The baby was still on the monitor though, and Phil smiled at the small grey image of the little one. He watched as the doctor switched the lights back on and began talking about getting a print out of the baby’s image for them to take home. Phil only half listened to the advice Banner was giving Melinda, even though he knew he should be listening, but thoughts of Skye and Nat and Bobbi seeing their baby brother or sister like he was, was overwhelming. And then Phil wanted to cry, because Bobbi wasn’t there and Nat was probably worried to death outside of the room, and his little baby girl, Skye wasn’t with them and she should have been. Skye should have been with them.

His gorgeous little girl was alone in that awful orphanage from which they had saved her. She was gone, and they had promised she would never have to go back there. They had let Skye down. He hadn’t been the Daddy he had promised himself to be for Skye.

Phil was pulled from his reverie by the blur that was Natasha barrelling into the room, with Clint on her heels. They both ignored him in favour of rushing to Melinda’s sides, one on one side of the bed, and one on the other. Nat nudged Phil out of the way until she could inspect her mother with her own eyes.

“Okay? Everything’s okay?” Nat asked, looking from her mother to Banner and back again.

“I’m fine.” Melinda smiled, holding out her arms for the kids. Phil was a little surprised to see Clint as well as Nat, cuddling up to Melinda’s side. He smiled. Clint kissed Melinda’s cheek. He must have really been worried. Mel pressed kisses to Natasha and Clint’s temples, rubbing her nose briefly in Tasha’s hair. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Clint let her go and shuffled back a little awkwardly to stand by the bed, picking at nothing on his fingers. Phil crossed the room and stood next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright?” Phil asked quietly, and Clint nodded. “Good, man.”

When Phil looked back over to his wife and daughter, he smiled at Natasha having practically draped herself across Melinda’s body, her face pressed into her mother’s neck. Mel stroked her hair.

“Are you really pregnant?” Natasha mumbled. “You’re going to have a baby?”

Phil smiled when Melinda pressed a kiss into Nat’s hair. Legally an adult or not, that little redhead was still just a baby herself, really.

“I am.” Melinda said with a little smile.

“And the baby’s okay?”

“It is.” Phil said. “I’ve seen. I’ve heard.” He chuckled, still giddy at the memory of his child’s heartbeat beating throughout the room.

There was quiet for a few seconds where no one spoke. The nurses left the room and Doctor Banner smiled and ducked out with a quick promise to be back soon, and then it was just the four of them left. Natasha let Melinda gently stroke the back of her neck while the teenager rubbed her fingers over the top of her nose. Phil felt a pang in his chest when the image became reminiscent of Skye stroking her nose while she sucked her thumb.

“Did you tell Skye about the baby?’ Phil found himself suddenly asking. Reasons behind her odd behaviour over the past couple of days suddenly began to make sense. “Is that why she didn’t want to go to school?”

Mel looked over to him and nodded. “I took some pregnancy tests and she found them. She was the only one who knew.”

“What about Hunter?” Clint shuffled his feet and tugged at his ear.

“I have no idea how he knew.” Mel admitted. She sighed. “I wanted to be the one to tell you, Phil. Skye and I were going to tell you together.”

“Don’t apologise.” Phil said quickly when Mel’s expression changed. He could tell the apology was on the tip of her tongue. “Don’t. You don’t need to be sorry.”

“But I am.” Mel said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby and I’m sorry for Skye.”

Natasha hugged her mother and Phil heard her mutter something in her ear. Whatever it was wasn’t in English. The words were Russian, but he couldn’t pick out the sounds enough to translate. Even though he knew Mel knew just as much Russian as he did, which happened to be embarrassingly little for having a Russian daughter, whatever Natasha had said seemed to make Melinda smile.

Tasha smiled, too. “I can believe your having a baby, Mama.”

“Me neither.” Phil grinned. He sat down on the edge of Melinda’s bed, frowning a little when his broken ribs panged. He ignored the pain and placed a hand gently on Mel’s abdomen. “I can’t believe that there’s a baby in there.”

Clint cleared his throat and when Phil looked over at him he couldn’t help but smirk at the look of disgust on Clint’s face. “I can’t believe you guys still have sex.”

Nat practically leaped out of the bed. “Ew. Gross, Clint. We were having a nice moment.”

He shrugged. “Sorry, but how pregnant are you?”

Phil chuckled. “Thirteen weeks.”

Clint seemed to do some quick maths in his head and then grimaced at them. “That means you had sex at least once in the past three months.”

Natasha shuffled further away from the bed. “Oh, God.”

Melinda rolled her eyes. “I hate to tell you but we’ve had sex way more than _once_ in the past three months-,”

“Ah!” Nat clamped her hands over her ears. “Stop, Mom. Gross.”

Clint looked a little pale.

Tasha kept her hands over her ears but turned to Phil and Melinda. “Haven’t you guys heard of birth control?”

Phil arched an eyebrow at his daughter. “I’ll have you know that your mother and I are usually very good. We almost always use condoms.”

Nat dry heaved dramatically. “Urg. My dad just said ‘condoms’.”

Phil turned to Mel who was sniggering quietly at the expression on Natasha’s face. “They’re adults.” Phil said. “We have let those two out on society and they can’t even cope with me saying ‘condoms’-,”

“Stop saying it, Dad!”

…

Lance Hunter hadn’t known what to expect from the visiting social worker coming to their (Tony’s) house to asses their readiness to take care of Skye, but of all the possibilities he had had in his head, this had not been one of them. Admittedly, Lance hadn’t had a massive amount of experience with social workers, but he had had his fair share, and none of them had been large men in long leather jackets with eye-patches.

Although, Lance thought to himself, that one on _Lilo and Stitch_ was frighteningly similar.

“Hello.” Lance said to the man standing on the doorstep. His voice came out a little squeakier than he had intended. Lance coughed. “Hello.” He repeated in what he hoped was a deeper and manlier voice. He could practically hear Bobbi rolling her eyes behind him.

“Good morning.” The man with the eye patch said. Lance found himself being able to focus on nothing but the eye patch. “I am Nick Fury. The visiting social inspector.” Nick Fury held his hand out for Hunter to shake. He did so, and continued to stare at the patch.

Bobbi shook the man’s hand, too. “I’m Bobbi, and this is my husband-,”

“Hunter.” Hunter cut her off. “Um, Lance Hunter.” Mr Fury gave him a curious look and Lance rushed to explain. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that in a James Bond kind of way, it’s just that most people call me ‘Hunter’ and so I said that was my name, and then I thought I should be more formal so I changed direction.”

Lance glanced at Bobbi. His wife looked like she wanted to slap him. Hunter looked back at Nick Fury. “I like your eye patch.”

Mr Fury nodded. “Right.”

Hunter opened his mouth but closed it again and instead turned on his heal, going back into the house.

“Don’t mind him,” he heard Bobbi say, “he’s British.”

“Ah.” Fury said and followed into the house.

Lance watched from beside the sofa as Bobbi expertly got Mr Fury settled in their living room and offered him a drink. The man declined politely and smiled in a kind way that didn’t really fit with his whole ‘leather coat, eye patch’ look.

Bobbi sat down on the couch and took Hunter’s hand. He knew he was meant to look comfortable in the house, looks as if he had decorated the place and lived in it day-to-day, but he just didn’t feel right. Bobbi tugged on his hand and Lance perched on the arm of the couch. The ceiling above him creaked minutely where Tony was moving around in the bedroom upstairs, supposedly hiding, and a nervous heat rushed up Hunter’s neck.

“I’ll assume you both know why I’m here.” Fury said, looking between them.

“Yes, Sir.” Bobbi replied. Hunter just nodded.

“This is all for a little girl named Skye.” Nick said, leaning forward and lacing his hands on his lap. “A little girl I had the absolute pleasure of meeting this morning.”

“You saw Skye?” Bobbi said. “Is she okay?”

“She’s upset.” Fury said. “But coping. Well, coping as well as an eight year old in this situation can. But I’m going to cut to the chase.”

Hunter nodded and gripped Bobbi’s hand tighter. She squeezed in response.

Nick Fury leaned back, settling into the chair like he owned the place. “Skye is a great kid.” He said. “She’s one of the very few children I have met who has been through such terrible things, and yet, has found a happy place for herself. That little girl is loved in your family.”

“She is.” Hunter said. He was sure Fury hadn’t wanted to be interrupted, but he just had to explain. “Mel and Phil, they love Skye. They do, we all do.” Bobbi was nodding along with him. “We just want her to be happy and safe. We can give her that until her parents can.”

Nick nodded. “Skye needs to be with her family, that is not being contested here, what _is_ being called into question is whether you two are capable of providing adequate care for this child. That’s why I’m here, to assess that.”

Bobbi swallowed. “Of course.”

“Now here’s the thing,” Mr Fury said, “I am not stupid.” He stared at Hunter. “Do I look stupid to you, Limey?”

Lance faltered a little at the nickname, trying to decide whether he should feel offended or not. “No, Sir.” Lance said. “You don’t look stupid.”

“Exactly.” Fury said. He cracked his knuckles then looked around the living room. “Nice house you got here.”

“Thank you.” Bobbi said, fingernails picking at the edge of her sweater.

Nick Fury stood up and crossed the room to look at himself in the mirror over the mantelpiece. “No pictures on the walls?” He said, looking at Hunter through his reflection.

“We’re very minimalist.” Lance answered quietly.

“Right.” Nick turned to face them both. “And how long did you say you’ve lived here?”

Lanced blanked. “A while.”

Bobbi thumped his arm. “Three years.”

“Right.” Nick said again. He stepped up closer and looked between Lance and Bobbi with what Hunter could only describe as pity. The man sighed. “Tell me the truth.”

Lance hadn’t stayed on at school to do his A levels, and so had practically sprinted out of school for the last time at sixteen with most of the other kids from his year group. When he _had_ been at school, Hunter hadn’t been perfect, he hadn’t been terrible, but he had found himself in the head master’s office a fair few times and had heard the whole ‘You’ve let me down, you’ve let the school down…etc’ and the feeling he had felt as a teenager being reprimanded in the head teacher’s office, was _exactly_ how Mr Fury was making him feel now.

“We’re not lying.” Bobbi said, frighteningly confidently.

Fury cocked his head at her. “Yes, you are.” He didn’t sound mad, just exasperated. “Listen, I have no doubt in my mind that you can take care of Skye. I’ve spoken to her at length and she obviously loves you, and given your elaborate plan to trick me, you obviously love her, but you overlooked one key variable.”

“What’s that?” Hunter said and Bobbi groaned next to him.

Nick Fury smiled. “You overlooked the fact that Skye is eight, and so when I asked her where you lived, she told me. The truth.”

Bobbi groaned louder and dropped her head in her hands. “We’re going to jail.”

“You? What about me?” Tony yelled from the staircase. Hunter turned to see their friend walk into the room and flop down onto Fury’s previously vacated seat. “ _I’m_ the one who committed fraud.”

Nick was smirking at Tony, and the billionaire looked up.

“Hey.” Tony said, offering his hand to Fury. “Tony Stark, billionaire and soon to be fraud convict.”

Nick shook it. “Pleased to meet you.”

“We’ve ruined everything.” Bobbi said, her head still in her hands. “For a minute, I really thought we were going to pull it off, make sure Skye would stay with us.”

Hunter rubbed her back and swallowed past the lump of dread in his throat. Skye had settled herself nicely in his heart, right beside his little sister all the way back in England. Skye often reminded Lance of his sister, and so whenever he felt for Skye, he felt for his baby sister, too.

Bobbi shuddered. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.

“I don’t do my job for the paycheque.” Mr Fury said.

Hunter looked up at the man. He was stood with his hands in his coat pockets, his huge stature giving the impression that he was filling the entire room. Hunter made a mental note to never piss off the man, his name was ‘Fury’ after all. Lance allowed himself a second to be proud over that joke, then turned his attention back to Fury.

“I do this job because I want to help the kids who can’t help themselves.” Nick Fury looked at them all individually. “Skye is one of those kids, and I promised to help her. Despite your feeble attempts to trick the system,”

Tony grimaced at that.

Nick continued. “I’m prepared to overlook your dishonesties in favour of Skye being placed back with her family.”

Bobbi’s head popped up so fast that Hunter almost fell off the arm of the sofa in an attempt to avoid being head butted.

“What are you saying?” Bobbi asked. She grabbed Lance’s hand again.

“I’m saying,” Fury said, “that as long as you can keep up this charade of a happy little couple owning a suburban house and working good jobs, I am willing to award you care of Skye.”

Tony stood up as Hunter and Bobbi simply gaped at Fury in disbelief. “You could be fired if they ever found out you knew this was a sham.”

“I am aware, Mr Stark,” Nick said, “but like I said, I do my job for the children I help, not for the money, not for the state, not for anything other than the best interests of the kids.”

Stark nodded. “You’re a good man.”

Fury smiled. “As are you, Mr Stark. How _is_ Grant?”

Tony blinked. “Um, he’s doing very well, thank you. How, how did you know…?”

Nick Fury placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “A billionaire, unmarried, with a series of past misdemeanours to his name? What kind of social worker would see past all that and find the caring man who could provide a loving family for a little boy in need?”

Tony gawked at him. “You…?”

Fury nodded. “I’ve never been wrong about what’s best for the kids before.” He turned to Bobbi and Hunter. “Don’t make this time break my streak.”

“Yes, sir.” Bobbi said.

“Yes, sir.” Hunter parroted.

“Fantastic.” Fury clapped loudly, and walked over to the front door. When no one made a move to follow, he rolled his eye. “Come on, then, don’t you want to pick up your little sister? She’s waiting.”

…

Clint and Nat sat together in the back of the taxi, huddled close, fingers entwined. Every so often Clint would press a kiss to Natasha’s hair, despite the dirt riding up in there, and Tasha rested her head on his shoulder.

Doctor Banner had informed them all that her mother and father were both free to leave the hospital, providing they promised to follow his direct instructions for recovery. Tasha had made the man give her a copy of said instructions so that she could make sure they were taking care of themselves. Her parents had a habit of putting everyone else before themselves, which was admirable most of the time, but now with her Dad in bandages and her Mom pregnant, putting others before themselves was just stupid.

Her father had waved off any worry either of them had, and had told them the best way to help was to go home and get him and her mom some new clothes to bring back to the hospital to go home in. Her and Clint had agreed, although Natasha had explicitly stated her father shouldn’t do anything against the doctor’s orders while she was gone.

The list of instructions given to her by Doctor Banner was pretty short, mostly ‘bed rest and no work’ for a while, but Natasha still had the piece of paper tucked safely into the pocket of her jeans, folded around the little image of her new brother or sister. Doctor Banner had said they were only supposed to give parents two print outs of the sonogram, but he had made an exception for them and given her parents five or six to distribute to the family.

Natasha ran her finger over the edge sticking out of her pocket and smiled. As gross and disturbing as the thought that her parents still had sex, apparently often, she couldn’t quite get over the feeling of, perhaps not quite yet love, but fondness for the child in her mother’s belly.

“Mom said Skye knew about the baby.” Nat said to Clint. “I wonder how she feels?”

Clint shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Not too long ago, I was the baby.” Natasha said. She fiddled absently with Clint’s fingers. He had a scar on one of them from a fight with his brother that was so deep she could feel the indentation of the tissue. “I was the baby, and now, we’ve got two more.”

“You’re still their baby.” Clint said and kissed her cheek. “You and Bobbi will still be Mom and Dad’s babies, no matter what.”

“I’m not jealous.” Nat felt the need to clarify. “Just, it’s weird. I didn’t think I’d get used to being the big sister so quickly.”

“That’s because you’re so good at it.”

She smiled. “It’s the best job in the world.”

For the rest of the journey home Nat and Clint sat in the back of the taxi quietly, both fighting the crippling exhaustion from days of seemingly endless stress. Nat kept moving to check her phone, only to remember both of their phones had ran out of charge during the morning. Having no connection to either Bobbi or Hunter was causing her a little discomfort, but Clint’s presence by her side was enough to keep Natasha composed.

“We’ll call them from the landline at some point when we get in.” Clint said, and not for the first time did Tasha wonder if Clint _could_ actually read her mind.

Nat nodded. “Do you think Skye’s okay?”

“I think Skye is a brave little girl.” Clint said. “And I think that Bobbi and Hunter are smart.”

“They are.” Nat agreed. She kissed Clint’s jaw. “I believe in them.”

…

Like Skye, Natasha had spent some time in St Agnes’ orphanage, even if that time had been extremely short, but Bobbi hadn’t ever experienced it. When Bobbi was a kid, she had spent four or five years with her biological parents, then had been left with her aunt and her husband. For far too long Bobbi went between her aunt’s house and a boarding school until one summer when she returned ‘home’ to find an empty house and no furniture left. Apparently her aunt and uncle had been gone for weeks.

Having them abandon her had been the best thing to ever happen to Bobbi, because the state had placed her in emergency foster care with Melinda and Phil, and Bobbi had found her family. Despite the abusive home with her aunt and uncle, to some extent Bobbi had been lucky, never having had to experience the trauma of a group home or orphanage like her sisters.

That’s why Bobbi really wasn’t sure what to expect when she and Hunter pulled up to St Agnes’ and followed Nick Fury into the bleak building. Hunter held her hand the whole way inside.

“It’s like a prison.” He muttered beside her.

Nick Fury led them to a reception area. He nodded. “It’s an institution for children.” He said. “Might as well be a prison.”

Fury spoke to one of the nuns in hushed tones and Bobbi found her eyes being drawn to the plain, dismal décor of the orphanage. “I thought it would be more colourful.” She said quietly to Hunter. “You know, like a school.”

Lance sniffed. “It’s a disgrace. Some of these kids have to live here their whole childhoods.” He sighed. “There aren’t even any pictures on the walls.”

Bobbi glanced at a yellowing poster gracing one end of the corridor. “Not true.” She said sarcastically. “There’s one to keep the kids happy.”

Hunter looked at the poster and scoffed. “The Ten Commandments?” He read. “’Honour your father and mother’. Yep, just what they need on the wall of an orphanage.”

Fury returned to their side with a sour face and a stack of paper in his hand. “I’ve spoken to Sister Margaret.” He said with distain. “For a woman of God, she’s a mean piece of work.”

Bobbi craned her neck to see the nun. The woman was glaring at the three of them from across the room. She narrowed her eyes at Bobbi and turned away to go back into the office.

“My sister punched her.” Bobbi said with a little smile and a swell of pride for Natasha.

Nick grinned. “Oh, I know. I was there.”

“You were?” Bobbi asked.

He nodded. “I was dealing with another case at the time. Pure coincidence that I was here when she came in.” Nick chuckled. “Kid had a mean left hook if I remember rightly.”

“Still does.” Hunter smiled.

“Good for her.” Nick Fury held out the paperwork to Bobbi. “A few things for you both to sign, and then we need to go over some rules.”

Bobbi nodded. “And then we can go and see Skye?”

“Yeah. You can take her home.”

They signed the papers declaring that they were both prepared to care for Skye until her current foster parents were considered suitable to take her in again, and listened to Fury’s carefully worded rules for caring for Skye. The rules were printed onto a wordy document that both Bobbi and Hunter had to sign, too, and a copy given to them. Hunter held the paperwork, frowning at some of the guidelines.

“So,” Hunter said, “we can’t let Skye see Phil and Mel at all?” He rubbed his stubbly chin.

“Not until it’s been approved.” Nick said. “I’m trying my best to get this over as quickly as possible, though, so just keep that in mind.”

Bobbi folded her arms. “What if I just _happen_ to be in my parents’ house, and I just _happen_ to have Skye with me, and she just _happens_ to see them?”

Fury smiled sadly. “I’m bending the rules enough as it is. I’m sorry, but if anyone got wind that Skye had seen them before it had been approved, they’d take her from you and I wouldn’t be able to stop them.”

Hunter huffed. “Who’s ‘them’ anyways? I don’t like ‘them’ very much.”

“No one does.” Nick agreed. “The big men upstairs who never show their faces, they pretend like they know what’s best for the kids, but they don’t _know_ the kids.” He sighed. “Follow the guidelines, keep Skye safe, and hopefully she’ll be back with her Mom and Dad before we know it.”

“That’s all I want for her.” Bobbi said, rubbing a hand over her stinging eyes. She was running on very little sleep, and the exhaustion was catching up to her.

Lance put an arm around her shoulders.

Fury nodded and led them down the hall. “Skye’s in one of the rooms the nuns keep for short-term cases. She wasn’t too interested in socialising with the other kids here.”

Hunter and Bobbi eyed a little boy in one of the common rooms, too old to be wandering around in a diaper with a pacifier in his mouth, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Yeah.” Hunter said. “I can see why she wouldn’t want to.”

Bobbi tried not to dwell on the discomfort caused by seeing all of the unfortunate children that they passed in the orphanage as Nick Fury led them to Skye’s room, but it was difficult not to feel a crippling empathy for all of them. She felt Hunter stiffen slightly beside her when a blonde girl, maybe eleven or twelve rushed out of a room to their side and barrelled into Nick.

Fury caught the girl by the shoulders to steady her and she hopped between each foot, rising up onto her toes.

“Shannon-,” Fury began but was cut off by the kid.

“I saw you come in and I thought maybe you were here for me.” Shannon said quickly. “You said last month you’d be coming back to see me soon, is this you coming back for me? Did you find someone for me? Is my aunt coming home?”

Nick patted the girl on the shoulder. “Not yet, kid, on either front.”

Bobbi’s heart broke at the look of pure devastation on the kid’s face. Shannon stepped back from Nick and shrugged, quickly recovering from her disappointment and pressing her lips together. “Maybe next time.” She said quietly with a little forced smile.

Fury nodded. “It’ll happen one day. Don’t lose hope.” He smiled at her. “You’re the best at hope around here.”

Shannon smiled properly, looking at Bobbi and Lance this time, too. “Sister Margaret always says I’m too optimistic, but Nicky says there’s no such thing as too much optimism.”

Lance smiled. “I think he’s right, there.”

“Yeah.” The kid said. “I’ll get a family real soon. I know I will.” She looked between Bobbi and Hunter. “You two aren’t in the market for a cool kid like me, are you? I’m a real good helper with the little kids and I’m taking martial arts at school so I can fight off anyone picking on them.”

“Sorry, kid,” Nick said apologetically, “they’ve already got someone they’re taking home today.”

“That’s good.” Shannon beamed. “I hope you have a fantastic family with them.”

Bobbi smiled at her, and wondered if that was what she had looked like at twelve, turning up on Mel and Phil’s doorstep. Shannon reached down to tuck her grubby laces into her shoes and a crude biro drawing of what Bobbi thought was meant to be Captain America’s shield became visible on her arm. Bobbi made a mental note to inform her father that his favourite comic book hero was still alive and kicking amongst the kids these days.

Despite the apparent fondness for the Captain, Bobbi had to admit that this kid wasn’t like her. She was better, way better than Bobbi had been as a kid. She had positivity that Bobbi had never had as a child. She hoped that Shannon never lost that.

“How old are you?” Bobbi found herself asking, and if the child thought it odd, she didn’t show it.

Shannon smiled brightly, standing back up straight. “I’m turning twelve in two weeks.” She said.

Bobbi nodded. “I was twelve when I moved in with my Mom and Dad, before that I didn’t really have a _real_ family. Maybe this will be your year, too.”

“You think so?” Shannon asked.

“Yes.” Bobbi said to her. “I really think it could be.”

Someone in the room Shannon had come from screamed her name and the girl turned to the voice. “I’m coming.”

“ _Shannon, you said you’d braid my hair.”_ The voice whined.

“I have to go.” Shannon said to Bobbi. “It was very nice meeting you...”

“Bobbi.” Bobbi supplied. “I’m Bobbi Morse, and this is my husband,” she turned to Lance, “Lance Hunter.”

Shannon grinned. “Well, it was wonderful to meet you Bobbi Morse and Lance Hunter, but I have to go and braid some second grader’s hair now.”

Nick chuckled. “You’re selfless, Shannon.” He joked, patting her arm.

“Do tell that to all of the potential foster parents.” She said brightly, then turned back to Bobbi and Hunter. “And please tell your friends about the children who need homes here.” Her face turned serious. “It doesn’t have to be me, but just let them know about the kids who needs families.”

“I’ll do that.” Lance said earnestly. “I won’t forget.”

“Good.” Shannon said. “And you, don’t forget the name ‘Shannon Carter’, because family or no family I’m going to be in the Olympics some day.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lance grinned.

“Yep.” Shannon said proudly. “Martial arts. I’m thinking taekwondo, but maybe judo. Either one, really.”

“Sounds good.” Bobbi laughed. “Save me a ticket when you get into the gold match.”

“Of course.” Shannon said, waved at the all, and went back into the room from which she had come to braid the hair of another kid.

Hunter squeezed Bobbi’s shoulder. “Nice kid. I hope she gets everything she wants.”

“Me, too.” Bobbi said quietly and they began following Nick down another corridor.

The sounds of children gradually became less invasive the further Nick Fury led them into the orphanage. He stopped in front of a nondescript room, smiled, and knocked on the door three times.

Bobbi listened carefully to the sounds of rustling coming from the room, and little footsteps getting closer to the door.

“Who is it?” A little voice asked, and Bobbi clutched Hunter’s hand at the sound of her baby sister’s voice.

“It’s Nick.” Fury said. “I’ve got someone here for you, Skye.”

The door opened quickly and Bobbi barely got a chance to register the sight of her little sister before Skye had raced forward and thrown herself into her arms. Bobbi caught her and lifted Skye off her feet, the little girl immediately wrapping her legs around Bobbi’s waist.

“Take me home.” Skye said into Bobbi’s neck. Her little hands gripped at Bobbi’s hair and she could feel Skye’s breath hot on her skin. “Please. I wanna go home.”

Bobbi held Skye tightly, finding herself automatically rocking the little girl from side to side. She wanted to reassure her, to tell Skye that they were leaving that horrible place and she wouldn’t have to come back, but instead she just kissed her hair and hugged Skye tighter. It was too difficult to do anything other than hold her baby sister.

Hunter placed a hand on Skye’s back and rubbed gently. “Let’s get out of here, eh, darlin’?”

“Yeah.” Skye sniffled, face still hidden in Bobbi’s neck. “I don’t like it here.”

“Me neither.” Bobbi managed to say, voice catching slightly. “I’ve got you.”

Skye nodded but kept her face hidden until they were outside, mumbling a ‘goodbye’ and a ‘thank you’ to Nick Fury on their way out. Bobbi carried her to the car, following Hunter, and sat in the back with her baby sister while Lance drove.

“I’m gonna keep holding your hand,” Skye said, lacing her little fingers with Bobbi’s as the car pulled away, “because I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bobbi said, lifting Skye’s hand to kiss her fingers. She had little cuts on her hands, presumably from the accident, and Bobbi felt her chest constrict at the thought of her baby sister being left all alone in the hospital after such an ordeal. “Are you okay?” She asked.

Skye ran her fingers over Bobbi’s rings, twisting them the same way Natasha had a habit of doing. “I broke my wrist.” She said, holding out her cast.

“I know, honey.” Bobbi said. “That must have hurt. It must have been scary.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Skye said, turning to look out of the window. “I want to go home now, please. I want to see Mommy and Daddy.”

“I’m sorry, babes,” Hunter said from the front, “but you can’t see your mum and dad. Not yet.”

Bobbi kept her eyes trained on Skye in an attempt to gauge her expression. The little girl continued to watch out of the window and nodded slowly. “If I can’t go home and see Mommy, where are we going?”

“We’ll get you some of your things from home,” Bobbi said, stroking the back of Skye’s hand, “and then we’ve got a nice house to stay in for a little while.”

“Okay.” Skye said quietly.

Hunter cleared his throat. “It’ll be fun.” He tried to sound upbeat but Bobbi could see right through him. This was killing him just as much as it was her. They were keeping a little girl from her parents, from the people she loved. “It’ll be like a sleepover, Skye. Like we’re camping.”

Skye’s shoulders sagged a little, and then began to shake. Bobbi’s heart broke at the tiny gasps coming from the little girl and shifted in the back of the car to pull Skye close to her side.

“I want my Mommy and Daddy.” Skye said through her tears. She looked up at Bobbi, lip quivering. “Bobbi, I want my Mama.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Bobbi held her tightly and kissed her damp cheeks. “I know.”

…

“Hey, Nat?” Clint called from Melinda and Phil’s bedroom. He stood by the dresser looking awkwardly at the top drawer.

“Yeah?” Nat popped her head around the door of the ensuite bathroom where she was packing up some essential toiletries for her parents.

“Can you, um, like pick out some underwear for your mom? I feel weird doing it.”

She smirked at him and came fully into the room. “You feel weird?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Yes, Natasha. I feel weird picking out underwear for your mother to wear. It’s weird enough that I know she keeps them in the top drawer.”

Natasha opened the drawer and began rifling through her mother’s underwear, throwing a couple of items into a bag laid out on the bed. “Why do you know where she keeps them?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. Does that make it more or less weird?”

“I’m not sure.” Natasha dumped a few things from the bathroom into the bag and zipped it up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I think that’s everything.”

“Yeah?” Clint sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him dropped her head to rest on his shoulder. Clint kissed her. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She looked up at him and frowned. “Of course I do. And I love you, too.”

“Good.” Clint smiled. “Sometimes I feel like I have to make sure you know. Just in case…”

“What?”

He shook his head. “I guess the whole car accident shook me up a little. What if something happened to either of us?” Clint kissed her ear. “I’m nothing without you, Nat. Nothing.”

“That’s not true.” Natasha said.

“It is.”

“It’s not.” She booped him on the nose. “Even without me you’d be great. I truly believe that.”

He nuzzled her cheek. “I’m better for knowing you, Natasha.”

“I’d have to say the same about you.” Nat breathed in heavily. “I always wanted to be independent, to never have to depend on anyone, but that changed with you. I want to be with you forever.”

Clint smiled. “We can depend on each other forever.” He ran a thumb over her jaw. “I’ll propose one day, and then we can get married, have a house that’s just ours and a big back yard. You know, if that’s what you wanted.”

“It is.” Tasha grinned at him. “But what if I want to propose to you? Why does it always have to be the guy?”

“Fine.” He shrugged, laughing. “Propose to me. Go ahead.”

Natasha bit her lip, grinning, and extracted herself from him, sliding off the bed and kneeling by his feet. She took his hand in hers and cocked her head to one side.

“I was kidding, Tash.” Clint said.

“I wasn’t.” She countered, holding his hand tightly. “Clinton Francis Barton-,”

“Could you not with the full name?”

“-would you make me the happiest woman alive,” Nat smirked, “by becoming my husband?”

Clint laughed and threw his head back. “You’re crazy, baby.”

“Well? Don’t leave me hanging.” Nat said. “Marry me?”

He tugged her back up onto the bed and brought Nat up to sit in his lap. Clint kissed her slowly. “If I say yes to marry you, does that mean I have to take your name?”

She pretended to consider it. “Do whatever you want, I’m not the boss of you.”

“Could’a fooled me.”

She smacked him playfully. “Marry me?”

“Okay.” Clint mumbled against her lips. “You’ve convinced me.”

Natasha made an uncharacteristic little squeak and hugged him tightly. “Did we just get engaged?”

“I think so.” Clint laughed. “When should we tell your parents?”

“In about ten years.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me. Worked for Bobbi…sorta.”

Natasha shook her head. “If by ‘sorta’ you mean ‘not at all’.”

“Well, yes.” Clint kissed Natasha once more, pulling her down slightly on top of him as he leaned back on the bed. She kissed him back, running her nails gently over the back of his neck.

Clint closed his eyes, letting one hand trail down Nat’s back to rest on her bum, when she stilled above him. He opened his eyes. Natasha sat up and pressed a finger to his lips.

“You hear that?” she whispered, and Clint only had to twitch an eyebrow for her to eye his hearing aids and smile apologetically. “Right, sorry.”

“What was it?”

Tasha turned to the door. “I thought I heard the front door open.”

Clint strained to hear anything outside of the bedroom, but it was no use. Instead he stayed quiet, sitting up and gauging how to act based on Natasha’s reactions. She climbed off his lap and stealthily made her way over to the door.

“Nat?” He whispered, but she waved him away.

Natasha paused, her body rigid, ear pressed against the door. Clint still couldn’t hear anything outside of the room, but Natasha must have because her stance relaxed and she turned to him with a smile.

“It’s Bobbi.” She said. “Bring the bag down.”

Clint followed Nat out of the room with the bag. “Coming, dear fiancée.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He smiled. “Your idiot.”

“Always.”

…

Skye wasn’t really sure how she was supposed to feel when Bobbi and Hunter took her into her house. It didn’t feel like it usually did when Skye came home, like she did from school. There wasn’t the TV on or the radio playing in the background, she couldn’t hear Mommy and Daddy talking or Nat and Clint laughing. It was just quiet and empty.

She held onto Bobbi’s hand tighter. Home didn’t feel comforting without Mommy and Daddy there. She sniffed and didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that fell.

Hunter picked her up and Skye wrapped her arms around his neck. Home didn’t feel comforting but having Hunter there to hug and Bobbi to give cuddles made Skye feel an awful lot better.

“You okay there, sweets?” Lance asked her.

Skye hugged him tighter because he seemed a sad, too. “Thank you for coming to get me.” She told him and Bobbi.

“Not a problem, kiddo.” Hunter said.

Bobbi brushed some hair out of her face and kissed her head. “We’re family, Skye. We’ll always take care of you.”

That made Skye feel all warm inside. She smiled a little.

“Nat and Clint must be here.” Bobbi said to Hunter and pointed at the two pairs of shoes by the door.

Skye looked around. “Natasha’s here?”

“I think so.” Bobbi said and stepped further into the living room. “Nat?” She called up the stairs. “Natasha? Clint?”

No one replied, but Skye could hear the sounds of feet moving above them. She tapped Hunter’s cheek to get his attention.

“Can I see Natasha?” Skye asked.

He frowned a little and shifted his hold on Skye to be a little tighter. “Of course you can.”

Skye nodded, suddenly grateful that she was allowed to be with more of her family. “Just not Mommy and Daddy?”

It made Skye upset to know she wasn’t going to be able to see Mommy and Daddy for a while, but what really made her heart hurt was the look on Hunter’s face when she asked him. He swallowed so hard that Skye could feel his chest move under her hands, and when he shook his head, Lance squeezed his eyes closed for a second.

Skye watched him breathe out a shuddery breath ignoring the sounds of people on the stairs behind her. “It’s okay to cry.” Skye told him quietly. “If you want to. I wont make fun of you.”

Hunter laughed and kissed her cheek. “You’re such a treasure.” He said with a big smile. Skye was glad she had made him happier.

“Skye!”

Skye turned in Hunter’s arms to see Nat and Clint rushing towards her. She wiggled until Lance put her down, and met the two of them half way, wrapping her arms around Nat’s waist and smiling up at Clint. She had missed them. Skye, in reality, had barely been away from them, but she had _missed_ her family so much.

“Why can’t everything be like it was?” She asked Natasha. It was a question Skye hadn’t really intended to ask, and one she almost wished she hadn’t due to the devastated look on Natasha’s face.

“I don’t know.” Nat said, kneeling down on the ground. “I wish I could make everything better.”

“Me, too.” Skye brushed away Nat’s hair from her face like Bobbi did to her, and kissed her forehead because that had made Skye feel better. “I’m sorry you’re feeling sad.”

Natasha looked over at Bobbi. “Can you believe this kid? She’s feeling bad for _me_.” Nat looked back at her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry that you’re sad, too, Skye, but we have to try and be happy.”

“We do?” Skye questioned. She didn’t really feel like trying to be happy when Mommy and Daddy were so far away.

Bobbi sat down next to them. “Mom and Dad want you to be happy, Skye. That’s all they want.”

Skye rubbed her thumb over her lips. “I don’t think I can. I miss them too much.”

“But you’re good at making me happy.” Hunter said. He put a hand on the top of her head. “Skye, you’re the best at making other people happy, I’m sure we can find a way to cheer you up a bit.”

“Yes.” Clint agreed. “What can we do to make you happy?”

Skye thought about it. She looked between the four of them and really, really tried hard to thing of something that would made her feel happy again. The only issue was, she just kept thinking of the same thing, and when Skye felt herself beginning to get upset again she hugged Nat and pressed her nose into her shoulder.

“I just want my Mommy and Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind words and support you've been giving me. Let me know what you thought. Cheers, loves. xxx


	24. Skye's New House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry to you guys I promised this chapter to and said it would be up yesterday. I didn't leave myself enough time to proof it so here it is today. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> To all of you lovely people who commented, reviewed, tweeted, and inboxed me on tumblr about Shannon Carter in the last chapter, thanks for the fun speculations, but none of you got it right. Haha. Shannon is different to 'Sharon', but hey, I'm giving you all gold stars for effort and permission to do some googling now. 
> 
> I love you ALL. <3

Bobbi would be a good mommy, Skye thought, as she watched her big sister potter around the unfamiliar kitchen of the house, making food for her and Hunter. She wasn’t Skye’s Mommy, and Skye didn’t want her to be, she was happy with Bobbi being her big sister, but Bobbi would be a good mommy to someone else.

Skye sat at the kitchen table with a glass of juice she had yet to touch and looked around at the bare walls. At home they had photographs on almost all of the walls, and in the kitchen Mommy and Daddy had put up some of Bobbi’s drawings that Skye liked to look at when she ate her breakfast. This house didn’t have any pictures.

The house was nice, clean, and it had a bedroom for Skye that overlooked the backyard, just like hers did at home. It wasn’t the same, but it was something familiar, at least. Except, the house was _so_ clean and _so_ tidy that it felt like being in someone else’s home, which Skye supposed was true. Hunter had said that the house belonged to Tony but it was theirs’ to live in for a little while. It made her feel like she shouldn’t touch anything. It felt like it always did when Skye was dropped at a new foster home and the only thing she knew about her new home was the names of the people who lived there. It didn’t feel right.

“Here you are, beautiful.” Bobbi said, putting a plate of food down for Skye and kissing her on the top of her head.

“Thanks.” Skye said automatically, but made no move to eat the food. Her tummy was still hurting and as hungry as she had been earlier in the day, now she just didn’t feel like eating.

Hunter was on the phone in the other room. Skye couldn’t exactly hear what he was saying because the kitchen door was closed, but from the muffled tones that occasionally rose to him almost shouting, Skye could tell he wasn’t happy. His face had looked worried when the phone had rang about twenty minutes earlier and he had taken a look at the caller I.D.

“Who is Hunter talking to?” Skye asked Bobbi, resting her cast on the table and pushing back the plate of chicken nuggets.

Bobbi wiped at nothing around the sink and sighed before dumping the cloth in the basin, sitting down next to Skye. She picked up one of the nuggets and held it out to her.

“Come on, sweetie, eat up.” Bobbi said. “You must be starving.”

Skye shrugged. She really wasn’t in the mood for the food but the look on Bobbi’s face guilted her into taking it anyway. She nibbled on the breadcrumbs then returned the food to her plate. “Who’s on the phone?” She asked again.

This time Bobbi didn’t sigh, but she looked like she might cry. Skye didn’t like that.

“M’sorry.” Skye mumbled, sliding off her chair and climbing up onto Bobbi’s lap. She brushed Bobbi’s hair out of her face. “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you sad.”

Bobbi smiled and kissed her. “It doesn’t exactly make me sad,” she said, and then frowned, “I mean, it does, but…it’s hard to explain.”

“Okay.” Skye said, even though she didn’t really understand how explaining who Hunter was talking to could be difficult.

“Lance is talking to his mom.” Bobbi said, then cuddled Skye closer. “She’s not like our mom, she’s not so nice all of the time.”

Skye nodded in understanding. “I know what that’s like.”

Bobbi nodded. “Me, too. Some parents just aren’t cut out for it.”

“Hunter’s mommy is not a good mommy?”

Bobbi breathed heavily through her nose. “She used to be, a long time ago when Hunter was very little, but…” she trailed off and grimaced when the sound of Hunter’s voice, particularly loud, carried through into the kitchen. “Did you know Hunter has a little sister?”

Skye cocked her head at the change in topic, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes. He told me once.”

“Well,” Bobbi said, “Lance’s little sister is just a little bit older than you. She lives with their mom, and with Lance’s stepdad.”

“Okay.” Skye said.

“But Hunter wants for her to come and live with us.” Bobbi said. She smiled and little hugged Skye tighter.

Skye smiled back. “If she came to live with you then she could be my friend.” She was sure that if Lance’s little sister was anything like him, then they would be fast friends. Skye really liked Hunter. “She could be in my class at school.”

“Maybe.” Bobbi said. “But she can’t come live with us right now because her mom and dad don’t want her to leave them.”

“They might miss her.” Skye said by way of explanation.

Bobbi looked to the closed door. “Somehow I doubt that.” She muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bobbi said. “Anyway, Hunter has been trying to convince his mom to let his sister come live with us for a while, but he’s really trying hard right now because his stepdad wants to move to a different country and doesn’t want to let Hunter see her again.”

Skye looked up at Bobbi, scandalised. She couldn’t believe that _anyone_ wouldn’t want Lance to be in their lives. He was awesome. “Is Hunter’s stepdad stupid?”

Bobbi sniggered. “He’s really stupid.” She said, then rubbed Skye’s back. “He’s also mean and we don’t like that Jemma is still living with him.”

“Jemma?” Skye asked.

Bobbi nodded. “That’s Lance’s sister’s name.”

“I like that name. Jemma.” Skye tried it out on her tongue. “Jemma. I’d be Jemma’s friend.”

“I know you would be. You’d be a good friend.” Bobbi rocked her a little. “You’re such a good girl.”

Skye closed her eyes and leaned into Bobbi. “Not all of the time.” She said quietly. “If I was good, I’d be allowed to see Mommy and Daddy.”

Bobbi pulled back from her, but kept her arms firmly wrapped around Skye’s middle. Her expression was sad and she was frowning. “Honey, that’s not why you can’t see Mom and Dad. No. Skye, don’t you _ever_ think any of this is your fault.”

Skye didn’t understand. Everything bad happened because of her. Everything. “If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened. It was because I was bad.”

“No.” Bobbi said firmly. “That’s not true. There was a car accident, and that’s awful, but it wasn’t because of you.”

“Then why did it happen?”

Bobbi hugged her close. “Some things just happen, and there are no reasons. They’re no one’s fault.” She looked at Skye and held her chin gently so she couldn’t look away. “This was _not_ your fault, Skye.”

“Okay.” Skye said quietly, unconvinced.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it, Skye. ‘This was not my fault’.”

Skye looked dumbly at Bobbi. “I have to say it?”

“Yeah.” Bobbi said. “You know, saying is believing.”

Skye cocked an eyebrow at her. “I thought ‘seeing’ was believing.”

Something passed over Bobbi’s face and she shook her head. “Whatever. Just say it. ‘This was not my fault’.”

Skye resisted rolling her eyes only because she loved her eldest sister so much, but really she didn’t actually _believe_ that saying it would make her feel any better. But Bobbi was waiting for her so Skye sucked it up. “This was not my fault.” The words felt weird coming out of her mouth, like she was simply parroting Bobbi and putting in no thought, which, she guessed was exactly what was happening.

“Hey,” Bobbi said in a tone that suggested they were changing the subject, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What?” Skye asked.

Bobbi smirked. “How come I had to find out about Mom being pregnant from Hunter when you apparently knew the whole time?”

Skye shrugged sheepishly. “I found out on accident, like Hunter. Except I wasn’t in a tree.” She had found that story pretty amusing when Hunter had told her about it in the car on the way over to the house.

Bobbi nodded. “So, how do you feel?”

“About what?”

Her sister rolled her eyes. “The baby. How do you feel about Mom being pregnant?”

Skye really didn’t know _how_ she felt. At first she hadn’t liked the baby, had been a little jealous of the child in her Mommy’s tummy, but now…well, things were different. Skye missed Mommy so much, _so_ much, and all she wanted was to see her and cuddle her and kiss her. But Skye didn’t _just_ miss Mommy, she kind of missed the baby, too.

“Sometimes I talk to the baby, you know.” Skye told Bobbi. “She listens to me.”

Bobbi smirked. “She?”

“Mmhm.” Skye nodded. “Or he. Sometimes I think it’s a boy. Right now I think she’s a girl.”

“Oh, I see.” Bobbi was grinning. “So you like the baby?”

“I think so.” Skye said. “I’m not sure, though. I’ve never met the baby. It might be horrible.”

Bobbi laughed again. “Not with you as a big sister.” She ruffled Skye’s hair. “You’ll teach the baby to be a good person.”

Skye nodded. “Yeah, and I’m gonna help give her baths and stuff.”

“Sounds good.” Bobbi handed Skye another chicken nugget and the kitchen door opened to reveal a rather disgruntled-looking Hunter. Bobbi looked up at him. “Everything okay, Teacup?”

Hunter sat down in Skye’s vacated seat at the table and stuffed a nugget into his mouth. “Later.” He mumbled and gave Skye a poignant look.

Bobbi nodded. “Later.”

“So,” Lance said, taking a deep breath and smiling at Skye, “we brought lots of your stuff from home. Do you want to play for a little while?”

Skye didn’t feel like playing. She didn’t really feel like doing anything if she was being honest, and Hunter apparently seemed to sense this because he changed tactics.

“Or we could read one of your books?” He suggested. “Have a quiet night?”

“Yeah.” Skye agreed.

They had brought lots of her stuff from home, more than Skye had really wanted to bring with her, but Bobbi had insisted. Skye wasn’t stupid, she knew her big sister’s reasoning. Bobbi seemed to think that the more familiar things she surrounded Skye with, the more comfortable she would be. And perhaps there was a little truth in that, Skye _did_ feel a lot better back in her own clothes over the hospital pyjamas, but there was still an aching hollowness inside of her that she couldn’t seem to chase away, no matter how many toys or books or blankets from home she had with her.

“Come on, littlun, you can pick the story.” Lance stood and held out his hand to Skye. She slid off Bobbi’s lap and put the chicken back on the plate, taking his hand and following Hunter into the living room.

Hunter had put most of Skye’s stuff in the bedroom upstairs, but he’d left a couple of boxes of books and toys in the living room. They looked out of place in the too-tidy space, sort of like Skye felt. At home the toys all had their place, and even though it wasn’t really tidy, nothing looked like it didn’t belong.

Skye eyed the Barbies on top of one of the boxes, lying static on top of a board game that Skye sometimes played with Clint. She hadn’t really wanted to help with the packing, so had sat on the couch with Bobbi while Hunter threw things into the crates. He had only brought three Barbies, but he _had_ managed to pick out her favourites, and for that Skye was grateful. Seeing them however, made her feel more uneasy than comforted.

The toy waiting for her on the couch, however, well, _that_ toy made everything feel okay. Made everything feel like it should be, even if only for a few moments. Skye let go of Hunter’s hand to rush forward and liberate Mr. Snow from the couch pillows. Hunter had packed most of everything, but _Skye_ had made sure to bring her faithful polar bear. She had left him to sit on the couch when Hunter was on the phone to keep him company, but now Skye was glad to have him back.

“I bet he missed you when you in hospital.” Hunter said, flopping back onto the couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“He did.” Skye said quietly, hugging the bear tightly. “He doesn’t like being on his own.”

Lance’s smile was soft. “Being lonely isn’t much fun, is it?” He said. Skye shook her head. “But he’s not lonely anymore, right?”

Skye paused, looking down into Mr. Snow’s warm dark eyes. She could see a warped tiny reflection of herself in them. “He’s not lonely.” She said. “He’s got me, and you, and Bobbi, and Natasha, and Clint…”she trailed off. “He misses Mommy and Daddy, though.”

Hunter nodded. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Skye pressed her nose into Mr. Snow’s soft fur. He smelled like Mommy’s bed, which made no sense because Skye had left him in her own bed, so maybe she was just imagining it, but he was comforting. Although he made her miss Mommy and Daddy even more.

Lance tapped her shoulder. “Go and pick out a book, yeah? We’ll see if I’m any good at doing the voices.”

“You’re good at voices when we play spies.” Skye kneeled down to sift through the small pile of books they had brought, but ended up picking the one on the top anyway. She climbed up onto the soft next to Hunter and gave him the book.

He inspected the cover for a second and raised an eyebrow at her. “No Captain Patriotism today?”

“Captain _America_.” She corrected. “And only Daddy’s allowed to read me Captain America.”

“I see.” Lance smiled. He wrapped an arm around Skye’s waist to reach around and put the book between them.

Skye rearranged Mr. Snow on her lap so that he could see the pictures, too.

“Are you sitting comfortable?” Hunter said in a posh voice. Skye couldn’t help but smile a little when she nodded. He turned to the first page. “Then I’ll begin.”

…

Melinda knew Natasha and Clint were worried about her and Phil. The kids were trying to be subtle in their efforts to aid everything she and Phil were doing, but they were failing miserably, and their concern was beginning to grate on her nerves. That in itself made Melinda feel infinitely guilty, because when Nat was opening doors for her and when Clint refused to let her carry anything, she _knew_ they were only trying to help. It was just, well, it was getting irritating.

Not only that, but in the time she had spent with Nat and Clint since they had returned to the hospital and drove them back home, they had been avoiding mentioning Skye at all, only having said she was _‘with Bobbi and Hunter at one of Tony’s houses’_ and that she was _‘fine’._ Mel had tried to ask more but the kids had deferred to other subjects and had begun doing housework and chores. It was the most obvious ploy to stop talking Mel had ever seen.

“Would you like some tea, Mom?” Nat asked for the third time since they arrived home.

Mel shook her head and tried to feign a relaxed pose on the living room couch. Her eyes caught where some of Skye’s DVDs had been taken off the shelf by the TV and she had to swallow past the lump in her throat.

“Can I get you _anything_?” Nat asked. She stood at one end of the room, chewing on her bottom lip and scratching her fingernails over the pockets of her jeans.

“No, thank you.” Phil said. He smiled at Natasha. “Why don’t you go up to bed, honey. You didn’t sleep much last night.”

Mel eyed the dark circles under Natasha’s eyes. For a long time, Nat had been terrible for sleeping, putting up a fight when it came to every bedtime and being awake and wandering the house hours before the crack of dawn. That had been a long time ago, before Mel was ‘Mom’ and before even Clint had been a part of the family. Natasha had changed a lot over the years. Melinda no longer had to worry about her not sleeping, the kid could quite happily go to bed at ten pm and not wake up until after lunch the next day, so when she went back to not sleeping, it was a real concern.

Nat sighed heavily, then frowned and tried to cover it with a cough. “I’m not tired.”

“Don’t lie.” Mel said and Nat looked at her feet and chewed her lip. “And please don’t bite your mouth. Are you tired, Natasha?”

“No.” The teenager murmured. “I’m going to see Clint.” She went back into the kitchen and Melinda leaned her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes.

“She’s going to run herself down.” Phil said beside her. “I’ll see if I can get Clint to convince her to take a nap.”

“Yeah.” Mel agreed, rubbing at her closed eyes. They felt gritty and sore. “I worry about her.”

“I know.” Phil took one of her hands. “But we can only do so much. She’s an adult now.” He sighed. “They all are, well, except…” He trailed off and Mel opened her eyes.

“Skye.” She supplied and he nodded. “It’s okay to say her name, you know.” Mel snapped. “She’s not _taboo_.” Her tone was cutting, and she knew she was being unnecessarily mean, but it just felt as though everyone was walking on egg shells around her when it came to Skye. Nat and Clint wouldn’t talk about her and now Phil. Mel wanted nothing more than to gush over her baby girl because even though it hurt, and it really did _hurt_ to talk about Skye, she missed her. Melinda missed her so much and she needed to talk about her.

“I’m sorry.” Phil said quietly. He squeezed her hand. “I just didn’t want to upset you.”

“It’s okay.” Mel said. “Skye’s not here. I’m in a permanent state of being ‘upset’, but us not talking about her is just wrong, Phil. She’s our little girl.”

He nodded. “She’s our life.”

“She is.”

Mel looked again at the gap in the row of DVDs where someone, presumably Bobbi or Hunter, had taken out some of Skye’s favourites. She tried to imagine her little Skye in a different house, curled up on a different sofa watching her movies on an unfamiliar TV. It made her want to burst into tears with the only solace coming from the knowledge that she was now safe with Bobbi and Hunter, rather than back in the orphanage. Mel trusted Bobbi to care for her baby, but _God,_ did she miss her.

“I need some time.” Melinda said. She pulled her hand away and stood up. “Just a little while.”

Phil nodded and stood after her. He kissed her cheek let his forehead rest against her temple for a few seconds. “I’m going to do some work in the garage.”

Phil doing work in the garage generally meant he was going to read in the one room in the house the kids weren’t allowed unsupervised when they were younger, essentially the only place he was almost guaranteed to not be disturbed. Melinda watched him off into the garage and took her own trip upstairs.

She stood for a moment, frozen in the upstairs hallway, looking between all of the doors. Melinda had intended to go to her own room, to try and take a nap, or to simply lie and reflect of the past couple of days, give herself some time to sulk, but instead she was drawn to another room.

The new little painted sign on Skye’s bedroom door welcomed her into ‘Skye’s Bedroom’ with a beautiful background of blue sky and a bright sunshine with a hot air balloon on one corner. Bobbi had done a good job, Mel thought, tracing the little balloon with her fingers and smiling when she realised there was a little white bear painted inside the basket.

The room wasn’t the same without Skye. It seemed darker, bigger somehow, like a void rather than a safe place for her little girl to sleep. But then Melinda breathed in a shuddering breath and the smell was exactly like it should have been. It made her attempts at stopping the tears fall obsolete.

Melinda closed Skye’s door behind her and climbed into Skye’s bed, tucking herself under the duvet and pressing her nose into her baby’s pillow. The tears dampened the cotton underneath her cheek, but the overwhelming hollowness she felt at Skye’s absence meant she couldn’t bring herself to care. The fluffy blue blanket she had bought for Skye before she had first arrived was gone, along with Mr. Snow. The bed felt empty.

“We miss your big sister a lot.” Mel whispered with a hand on her stomach. It was still too early to feel anything but Melinda imagined the baby was listening. “I’m trying to stay calm for you, little one.” She said. “I don’t want to hurt you, little one.”

Staying calm in such a horrific situation was more difficult than Doctor Banner gave the impression of. Saying ‘don’t allow yourself to get stressed’ was significantly easier than being the person who had to put it into practice.

Her crying had slowed enough that Melinda could speak a little easier, and turning her back to the door and scooping up some of Skye’s worn pyjamas off the bottom of the bed to hug close, she began rubbing her belly.

“I’ll tell you about you big sister, Skye, should I?” She whispered to the baby. Melinda reached into her back pocket and pulled one of the sonogram images out. She put in down on Skye’s pillow and spoke in a low voice.

“Skye. She’s a very special person, you know. You’re going to be in good hands with a big sister like her.” Mel smiled a little, talking a deep breath of Skye’s pyjama top. “She’s brave, and funny, and clever. And we love her very much. We love Skye more than the world, don’t we? Yes. And when she comes home, little one, we’re going to make sure she never leaves us again.”

Mel nodded to herself, feeling the damp fabric of the pillowcase against her ear. “When Skye comes home, we’re going to make sure she’s home forever.”

…

By the time Tony had left Bobbi and Hunter’s house (ahem, _his_ house he was loaning them), Pepper and Grant had both left for school. He had spoken to Pepper during the night, gave her the run down of events and had then called again in the early hours for an update and to tell Grant he loved and missed him and that he’d be home soon.

Tony had never been particularly good at expressing his emotions in any other way than sulking and tantrums, even as a child, and as ay young adult the trend had only worsened. For Grant, though, he tried his best.

His mother had been loving, but absent, placing work as a higher priority than her son, and his father, well, at one point Tony might have accused the man of being neglectful and abusive, but after becoming friends with Melinda and Phil, and by extension, Bobbi and Hunter, he had had to re-evaluate his father’s parenting.

Thousands of dollars worth of therapy had done nothing more than make Tony bitter and resentful of his father, but one drunken night early in his friendship with Bobbi, she had spoken only briefly about the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her uncle and Tony’s whole mirage of an abusive father came crashing down.

Howard Stark hadn’t been a great father, hadn’t by any stretch of the imagination been even a satisfactory parent, but on hearing Bobbi’s stories and eventually some of Hunter’s, Tony understood that what Howard had done hadn’t been neglect or abuse, not really. He had spoken to Pepper about this realisation on more than one occasion, and each time she tried to convince him that abuse and suffering couldn’t be quantified, that it was the _effect_ it had on the person that mattered. Tony got that, he did, but what he wanted her to understand was that, he felt better.

Tony could sleep easier at night knowing that he hadn’t been hated by his father, that Howard hadn’t really been so bad, that there were people worse off. It was an awful thought that Tony felt better that other had been hurt worse than he had been as a child, but for some reason, it helped. He didn’t _like_ that it helped, but it did.

Tony Stark would _never_ be an abuse father, it just wasn’t in him, the thought of hurting a child made him feel physically sick, but for so many nights Tony had lay awake worrying that if he _did_ even become responsible for a little human, that he would become distant and essentially, his father. He had Grant now, he had his little boy, and Tony had vowed to him that he would be the father he’d _wanted_ as a child, not the father he’d _had_.

Grant had made Tony want to be better. He was making him better.

Tony was hovering in the kitchen, trying to decide whether it would be more beneficial to go and take a nap rather than to have yet _another_ cup of coffee, when the distinctive sound of the front door opening drew him into the hall.

Before anyone else, Lucky the dog scampered in and jumped up at Tony, putting his paws on his chest.

“Hey, you.” Tony said to the dog, ruffling his fur and coaxing him back onto all four paws. “I forgot about you. I’m sorry.” He pressed a guilty kiss to the dog’s muzzle. “It’s been a busy couple of days.” He tried to explain to Lucky, but the dog trotted into the kitchen, more interested in the water bowl by the door.

“Tony, you’re home.” Grant said, rushing into the house and dropping his backpack in the middle of the hall.

Tony bent down slightly to catch the little boy in a hug when he threw himself at him, and stood up straight with Grant still clinging on. The kid was really a bit too tall for Tony to carry him, but he allowed Grant a few seconds of mid-air hugs before he gently put him back down and tucked him into his side with one arm.

“I missed you.” Tony told Grant, kissing his head. He saw Pepper come in and close the door in his periphery. “I love you.”

Grant smiled up at him. “I love you, too.”

The sound of Grant’s words always made Tony feel special. It had been a conscious decision when Grant had first moved in over a year ago to tell the child that he was loved and to let him know that on the occasions Tony was away on business, that he missed Grant. These days he didn’t really have to think about it much, the admissions came naturally, and Grant’s seemed that way, too.

Tony held out his other arm for Pepper. She dropped her bags next to Grant’s, being uncharacteristically messy, and accepted Tony’s offer of a hug. She wrapped an arm around Grant, too and the three of them stood in a group hug in silence for a few moments.

“Skye wasn’t in school today.” Grant said suddenly. He still had his face pressed into Tony’s shirt and his eyes closed when he spoke.

Tony glanced at Pepper. She had mentioned over the phone that she had explained the situation to Grant best she could, but the little boy obviously wasn’t entirely certain of what was going on. How could he be? Tony wasn’t even entirely certain.

“She’s okay.” Tony went with, and Grant opened his eyes to look up at him. “Skye’s fine, she’s just going to be staying with Bobbi and Hunter for a little while.”

Grant frowned. “Pepper said she got hurt in a car crash.”

“She did. But not badly.” Tony stroked his hair. “She broke her wrist, but they fixed her all up at the hospital and now she’s fine.”

“What about her Mom and Dad? Why isn’t she with them?” Everything about Grant’s questions exuded worry, and Tony wanted nothing more than to assure him that everything was going to be alright and that everything was going to be back to normal very soon, but he didn’t know that.

Tony kissed Pepper’s cheek and unwrapped his arm from around her so he could give Grant his whole attention. He bent down to his level and put a hand on each of his shoulders. “Skye’s Mom and Dad got hurt in the crash, too, and before Skye can go back to live with them, we just have to make sure that they can take care of her.”

Grant frowned. “But they _can_.”

It was so difficult to explain the happenings to a child. Tony nodded. “ _We_ know that Skye’s Mom and Dad are great, right?”

Grant nodded enthusiastically.

“Right.” Tony continued. “But there are some people who don’t know Mel and Phil and they need to see what good parents they are, so they can make sure Skye is safe.”

“Social workers.” Grant said.

“Yeah.”

Grant looked from Tony to Pepper. “The social workers took Skye away from her Mom and Dad?”

Tony said, “Yes” at the same time as Pepper said “Not exactly” and Grant looked between them with an expression of horror.

The little boy’s lip quivered and he grabbed onto Tony’s hands on his shoulders. “Will the social workers come and take me away from you guys?”

“No. No, honey.” Tony said quickly, picking up Grant and holding him in his arms. Too big or not, Tony was going to hold his little boy until he believed he was never going to be taken away.

Pepper kissed Grant’s cheeks and held his face in her hands, wiping away the tears that had started with her thumbs. “Oh, sweetheart.” She cooed. “Sweet boy, don’t cry, don’t worry. You’re never leaving us.”

Grant sniffled. “M’not?”

“No.” Tony said with finality. “Just because it happened to Skye, doesn’t mean it will happen with you.” He held the back of Grant’s head and stroked his thumb over the short hair there.

“I wanna stay with you forever.” Grant said as the tears stopped. “I wanna be with you forever.”

Pepper smiled. “You will be.” She said. “I promise.”

“I promise, too.” Tony agreed. He tightened his grip on Grant, ignoring the strain in his arms. “I love you.”

Grant laid his head on Tony’s shoulder, a gesture that made Tony want to cry. He bit the inside of his cheek and kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you.” Pepper said, and rubbed Grant’s back.

He lifted his head to give her a kiss. “I love you.” Grant turned and kissed Tony. “I love you, too, Tony.”

“Good.” Tony coughed a little to dispel the lump in his throat. “And don’t you ever forget, this home, with me and Pep, this is your forever home.”

“Forever and ever.” Grant smiled, then looked towards the kitchen at the sound of lapping water. “And Lucky’s forever home.

“Yes.” Tony grinned. “His, too. Even if I did forget he lived here until like five minutes ago.”

Grant laughed and Tony let him down. The little boy gave Tony and quick but tight hug, and gave Pepper the same, before running off in search of his new canine friend. Tony smiled and watched as Grant played with Lucky until a thought occurred to him and he turned to Pepper.

“Did you take the _dog_ to school?” He asked.

She tucked herself back into his side and shrugged. “I couldn’t leave him here all alone. He’s barely been here a day.”

“Yeah, but, can you take a dog to school?”

Pepper smirked. “Principal Weaver wasn’t too happy when I turned up with him this morning, but he’s a one-eyed rescue dog called ‘Lucky’. She could hardly turn him away.”

Tony smiled. “So what? He’s like the school mascot now or something?”

“God, no.” Pepper laughed. “I said Weaver couldn’t turn him away, not that she liked him. I told her it was a one-time thing. Not sure she’d be too pleased if I tried it again.”

“Well, good thing I’m here.” Tony kissed Pepper’s temple and she hummed. “Lucky can keep me company when you guys are at school.”

The dog in question sped from the kitchen at that moment, chasing after a small rubber ball that bounced its way down the hall. Grant appeared in the doorway and smiled guiltily.

“I’m not supposed to throw balls in the house.” He said. “Sorry.”

Pepper smiled. “As long as you don’t do it again. We don’t want to get anything broken.”

Lucky returned with the ball proudly and dropped it at Tony’s feet, who immediately picked it up and threw it back down the hall at top speed. Pepper opened her mouth to chastise him when there was the distinctive sound of something shattering.

Tony grimaced. “Whoops?”

Pepper glared at him. “I swear if that was the antique Wedgewood vase…” She never finished the threat, instead taking off the direction of the smash.

Grant followed her, shooting a little grin over his shoulder at Tony.

Tony huffed. “It was ugly, anyway.” He called after them. “And why do we even have antique vases when we have a nine year old? I mean come on, that’s just stupid. They’re _bound to get broken!”_

Grant poked his head back around the corner. “ _I’m_ not the one who broke it.” He argued. “I’ve never ever broken an antique vase. How many have you broken?”

Tony huffed. “Only three.”

“Four!” Pepper corrected. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel the radiating anger.

Grant smirked. “You’re in trouble.” He sang.

“I am.” Tony groaned. “Want to come down to the lab with me until Pep doesn’t want to kill me anymore?” He dropped his volume a little. “I’ll let you do some soldering.”

“Agreed.”

Tony ushered Grant towards his lab. “I’m _such_ a good parent.”

…

It was nice to just sit quietly in the lab, Grant thought. Tony had offered to let him do some of the dangerous things that Pepper would _never_ approve of in a million years, stuff that involved high temperatures and acids, stuff that was usually fun, but today Grant had declined. Today he was quite happy to sit on the ground by Tony’s desk and make spaceships with his Lego set.

Grant had his own desk in the lab he could sit at, just across the room from Tony’s, but he’d felt a little shaken up all day since Pepper had explained what had happened with Skye, and Grant really just wanted the reassurance of being beside Tony. He had been particularly clingy to Pepper at school, to the point where Pepper had just let him work at her desk all day and stay inside at recess. Now it was Tony’s turn.

“So,” Tony said, putting a hand on the top of Grant’s head, “have you thought about your birthday any more?”

Grant looked up at him. “What about my birthday?”

“It’s on Saturday.” Tony smiled. “Do you know what you want, yet?”

He’d be lying if Grant said he hadn’t thought about it. His last birthday had been the first one he’d spent with Pepper and Tony and it had been great. He’d got a party and everything, and in the run up to this year’s, the excitement had been even greater. But now, he couldn’t really focus on what toys he’d like to get or where he would like to go to celebrate, when thoughts of his friend, Skye, had settled themselves in his mind.

“I don’t know.” Grant shrugged. He set about stacking some Lego into a tower, abandoning the instructions to make a spaceship.

Tony ruffled his hair. “Maybe we could go and play laser tag on Saturday? Or paintballing?”

Agent Ward thought that paintballing sounded really cool, but Grant remembered that Skye was hurt.

“Skye has a broken wrist.” He said sadly. The Lego tower fell over and broke into a few lumps of plastic. “She can’t go paintballing.”

“We can do something else. Anything you want.”

Grant flicked a stray Lego block and it skittered across the ground. Lucky had joined them in the lab and the dog chased the piece of plastic, sniffed it, then went back to chewing on his ball.

Tony got out of his desk chair and sat himself down by Grant’s side on the floor. “Are you worried about Skye?” He asked quietly. Grant looked at his hands. “Hey,” Tony nudged his shoulder, “it’s okay to be worried. It’s okay to miss her.”

It was okay. Tony and Pepper told him things like that often. It was okay to cry, and it was okay to tell someone you loved them, and it was okay to ask for hugs when you needed them, and after one of the kids at school had made fun of Grant for hugging Pepper, Tony had taken to telling him an awful lot that is was okay to show someone you loved them with hugs and kisses and kind words. It especially didn’t matter if you were a boy or a girl. Boys were allowed to love and cry and miss people, too.

“Is she sad?” Grant asked eventually. He had lots of concerns for his best friend, but whether she was happy was top of the list.

Tony smiled sadly. “I expect she’s a bit upset because she’ll be missing her Mom and Dad, but she’s not alone, she’s with Bobbi and Hunter.”

“I hope she’s not sad.”

“Me, too.” Tony hugged him and Grant cuddled into his side.

“I missed you today.” Grant murmured.

Tony rubbed his back. “Yeah? I missed you, too.”

Grant had felt a little off all day and he suspected some of it had more to do with Tony’s absence than Skye’s. On normal school days it was Grant’s job to go in and wake Tony before they left for school, and he would get to spend ten minutes cuddling with his foster father and talking about anything he wanted until Pepper came in and told him it was time to go.

Tony hadn’t been there this morning.

“Are you going to be gone tomorrow morning?” He asked.

“No. It was an anomaly. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Good.” Grant hugged him a little tighter. “And I definitely get to stay with you and Pepper?”

Tony sighed. “Forever. I _promise_ , you’re staying with us forever.” He kissed his head. “I’m never going to let anyone take you from me, okay?”

Grant nodded. Tony sounded so certain that he couldn’t help but believe him. “Okay.” He cocked his head to one side. “What if someone tried to take me away?”

Tony grinned. “Oh, well, I’d totally beat them up.”

“You would?” Grant shifted onto his knees and smiled up at Tony.

“Sure.” Tony puffed out his chest. “I’m pretty badass like that.”

Grant giggled. Tony always swore when he thought Pepper couldn’t hear him. “You could build a robot to beat up the bad guys.” Grant said. “A robot with lasers in his hands. And it can fly.”

Tony twisted his face. “Nah. Using an android’s to impersonal.” He scratched at his goatee. “Maybe I could build some kind of robotic suit, though…”

“No one is building a robotic suit.” Pepper said, walking into the lab. She had her hands on her hips but she was smiling a little. “No robots.”

“Aww.” Both Grant and Tony moaned simultaneously.

She waved them off and instead leaned down to pet Lucky. “I’ve cleared away the very expensive broken vase, in case you were wondering.” She gave Tony a poignant look. “That was a gift from someone to you father, you know.”

He smiled apologetically. “I know, and I’m sorry I broke it, Pep.” He sighed. “But, come on, it was ugly. _So_ ugly.”

Pepper shook her head and tucked some hair behind her ears. “Yeah,” she resigned, “it was pretty ugly.”

Tony grinned at Grant and the little boy smiled back.

“Listen, I’m going to start dinner so I’ll call you up when it’s ready.” Pepper said. She paused in the doorway and looked between Tony and Grant sitting on the ground. “Everything okay?” She was looking at Grant when she asked it.

Grant took a moment to consider. No. Everything wasn’t okay. Skye wasn’t with her Mom and Dad and she had been hurt and she hadn’t been at school today. But she was safe, and Grant was sure he was safe and that he was always going to be safe with Tony and Pepper.

“I’m okay.” He said as a compromise and leaned into Tony’s side. And he was okay, Grant was more than okay, he was really happy.

“Good.” Pepper smiled and when she left the lab, Lucky dutifully followed her out, ball in his mouth.

Tony squeezed Grant’s shoulder. “What about presents?” He asked, adding a few more Lego bricks to complete Grant’s spaceship. “Are you _sure_ you can’t think of anything you’d like for your birthday? It’s a big birthday.”

“It is?” Grant frowned.

“Sure.” Tony grinned. “You’re gonna be ten. Double digits! The big one-oh. Being ten is awesome.” He handed Grant the completed spaceship.

The rocket didn’t look like the picture on the box, but he didn’t care. Tony had made it way cooler. Grant smiled up at him. “What were you like when you were ten?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You want to know about ten year old me?” Grant nodded. “Well,” Tony said, “I wasn’t _nearly_ as awesome as I am now.”

“I bet you were cool.” Grant said.

“I was an idiot.” Tony said seriously. “Way smart, but still an idiot. Not like you.” He plucked the spaceship out of his hand and flew it into the side of Grant’s head, making him chuckle. “I did stupid stuff, got in trouble a lot.”

“Did your Dad get mad at you?” Grant frowned at the flicker of something unfamiliar across Tony’s face. He had never spoken to Grant much about his parents, other than that they were both dead, but occasionally he would mention getting in trouble with his father.

Tony nodded. “He would shout at me sometimes.” He said, stroking some of Grant’s longer hair at the front out of his face. “I won’t ever shout at you like that.”

“But what if I’m bad?” Grant asked. “I wouldn’t mind if you shouted at me.” He said honestly. “I would be sad, but I would deserve it.”

“No one deserves to be shouted out when they do something wrong.” Tony said seriously. “People make mistakes, and maybe they need to be punished but there are better ways than just shouting.”

Usually, Grant trusted everything Tony and Pepper said, but that just didn’t seem to make sense. “But, I thought that’s what dads were for? I thought dads shouted at you when you were bad and told you to go to your room and stuff like that.” He frowned a little. “I dunno. I can’t remember having a dad when I was with my Mom.”

“Neither of us had had much experience with good dads, huh?” Tony said.

Grant shrugged. “Maybe not, but I think you’re doing a pretty good job. ‘Specially if dads aren’t meant to shout.” He put his head on Tony’s shoulder. “You never shout at me.”

Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m doing a good job?”

“Yeah.” Grant smiled. “I think you are. You’re a good dad.”

Tony swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Am, am I _your_ dad?”

Grant paused and looked at the spaceship still in one of Tony’s hands. “I think so.” He said. “You do all of the good ‘dad’ things.” It was then that Grant considered how Tony felt about their relationship. “ _Are_ you my dad? Do you wanna be?”

Tony wrapped Grant up in his arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah.” He said, but it came out a little choked. He coughed again. “Yeah. I’m your dad, Grant. I love you, I’ll be your dad…”

“Forever?” Grant asked, looking up at Tony.

“Yeah. Forever.” Tony smiled down at him.

Grant grinned so much that his cheeks started to ache. He chuckled and took the Lego spaceship out of Tony’s hand. He smirked. “Are you _crying,_ Tony?”

Tony gave him a fake glare. “We were having a moment. Forgive me for feeling.”

Grant laughed.

“Hey.” Tony poked him in the side. “Real men cry.”

“I know.” Grant said. He flew the ship into Tony’s head and made it flip a few times through the air until he landed it on the floor. He shuffled forward on his knees and reached out to Tony with both arms, hugging him tightly around the neck.

“I love you.” Tony told him, hugging him back. “You’re my son, my little boy and I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Grant said, then pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. “And I think I’d like some Batman Legos for my birthday.”

Tony scoffed. “Batman? What a crappy superhero. He’s just an orphan billionaire who buys all his gadgets.” He huffed. “I’d be a way better superhero. At least I’d build all my stuff.”

Grant grinned. “Sure, Dad.”

…

It was after seven when Melinda and Phil met up again in the living room. Phil had made them food at some point when Mel was snoozing in Skye’s bed, and they moved to sit together at the kitchen counter eating pasta in silence. Really, Mel didn’t have much of an appetite, but she wasn’t stupid, she knew what was best for her and the baby.

“I got Clint to get Nat to go to bed.” Phil said after fifteen minutes of solid silence. “I bet they’ll both be out until the morning.”

Mel nodded and ran her fork through the remaining sauce on her plate. “Mm. They both looked pretty wiped.”

It was quiet again for a moment, not awkwardly so, she and Phil had been together for far too long for a silence to be truly awkward anymore, and they both went back to their own thoughts. Melinda put down her fork and instead slid her hand into her back pocket, pulling out the little black and white image of her unborn baby.

“We should put it on the fridge, maybe?” Phil said, looking at the picture in her hands.

Mel smiled as she traced the edges of the tiny body. It was unbelievable to think that little thing, that _actual_ person was living and growing inside of her. “Yeah.” She said.

Phil stood up and held out his hand for the picture, but Melinda shook her head. “Not this one.” She stood, too, and pulled another three identical images from another pocket. “This one’s Skye’s.”

He nodded, and didn’t question her logic, instead accepting another of the sonograms and pinning it to the front of the fridge with a mini magnetic photo frame containing only Hunter’s face. He seemed to second-guess his choice and instead used a plain blue one.

Phil stuck Hunter’s magnet back on the fridge and shook his head. “Why is this a thing that even exists?” He muttered.

Melinda smiled. The sonogram seemed to blend in amongst the rest of the colourful magnets and various papers they had stuck to the fridge. She was almost positive some of the papers were from when Nat had still been in school. They really should clear up their fridge front.

Phil had his back to her, still admiring the picture of their baby, when he spoke. “The police called me.”

“What?” Mel stared at his back.

“While you were upstairs.” He clarified, and rolled his shoulders. Even though Mel couldn’t see his face, she could sense his discomfort at the movement.

She bit her lip then silently chastised herself for something she wouldn’t allow Nat to get away with. “What did they say?”

He turned with a little more caution than he usually would, but Phil’s slightly stiff stance told Mel that had more to do with his broken ribs than with the actual content of the conversation. Phil reached out to touch her arm.

“They just let me know they were going to start interviewing people tomorrow. So,” he sighed and frowned, “I guess we’re getting closer to getting her back home.”

Melinda closed her eyes and covered his hand with her own. “It’s almost her bedtime.” She said in a small voice that didn’t really sound like her own. “Skye likes to cuddle before she goes to sleep.”

Phil didn’t say anything, but he wrapped her up in a tight hug that she was sure must be hurting his ribs. He didn’t complain, though.

“Mel?” He asked.

“Mm?” She hummed against his shoulder.

“I think that when we get Skye back home, we should start the procedure.” He pulled back from her slightly. “I think we should adopt Skye.”

As if she would have any other reaction to that other than, “I’ve never agreed with you more about anything in my life.”

He kissed her. “I know we waited longer with Bob and Nat, but-,”

“Skye’s different.” Mel finished for him. “Skye’s been our little girl from day one, we just need to make it official.”

Phil smiled. “It already says ‘Skye Coulson’ on her school books, we can have it say the same on her passport.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t have a passport.”

“Then we’ll get her a passport and it will say ‘Skye Coulson’” He smiled and brushed some of Melinda’s hair away from her eyes. “She’s coming home, Mel. We’ll get our Skye back with us.”

“I know.” Melinda said, and she really did feel more certain about it now more than ever. The concept of making Skye their own, legally, so nothing like this could ever happen again, made her feel more confident in get bringing Skye home. “But I still miss her so much.” Mel sighed. “She likes to cuddle before bed.”

…

Bobbi was being extra nice, and although Skye appreciated it, it wasn’t making being away from home much easier. After Hunter had told her several stories, and the three of them had watched a movie, Bobbi had helped Skye to take a bath and get ready for bed. She had even let Skye have some ice cream in bed, and although she wasn’t much in the mood for ice cream, the novelty of being allowed it in bed meant she ate most of the bowl.

“Do you want me to read you another story?” Bobbi asked. She was sat in a chair by the bed, and had already read a short book to Skye while she was eating her ice cream. At home, bedtime sometimes involved a story, or sometimes just talking, but _always_ involved Mommy getting into bed with her and cuddling.

Skye closed her eyes and tried not to cry. “I want Mommy.” She said.

Bobbi touched her hair. “I know.” She didn’t bother tell Skye why she couldn’t see her, and Skye was glad. She knew she couldn’t see Mommy and Daddy right now, she didn’t need someone to tell her that, but that didn’t mean she was going to express her want to see them any less.

“I’m tired.” Skye said, then. She didn’t bother to open her eyes when Bobbi kissed her head and wished her sweet dreams. The bedroom door clicked shut and that was when Skye began to cry.

She pressed her face into the pillow and angrily sat up and glared at it in the dark when it didn’t smell like home. Skye picked it up and threw it down on the floor along with the duvet. She huddled back down on the bed and even though it was too cold to only use her blue fluffy blanket from home, Skye cocooned herself in the fleece with Mr. Snow hugged against her chest and lay on a mattress with no pillow.

“I miss you.” Skye told Mr. Snow.

Sometimes her polar bear was magic and he could tell people things even when they weren’t there, she decided, so she began speaking to Mr. Snow, telling him things that he could parrot back to Mommy and Daddy while she was asleep.

“I miss you, Mommy and Daddy.” She said to her bear, and shivered a little under her blanket. “I love you and I want to come home. I don’t like it here.” She looked around at the bare walls of the bedroom. “It’s not like home. It’s different. I don’t like it.”

Skye closed her eyes again and smelled Mr. Snow’s fur because it smelt like home. “Bobbi gave me ice cream in bed, Mommy. That was cool.” She smiled a little. “I’m glad I’m with Bobbi and Hunter. That’s a good thing.”

“I love you.” Skye kissed Mr. Snow twice. “Don’t forget to send Mommy and Daddy the kisses.” She told the bear.

Skye paused and cracked open her eyes. Mr. Snow looked back at her with his little smile and warm eyes. “Okay, one more.” She kissed him again. “That one is for the baby so don’t forget her, either.”

Skye settled back down to go to sleep, pulling the blanket up over her head. It felt a little weird to be lying in bed with no pillow, but she didn’t want to get up and get it from the floor. She tried to imagine cuddling with Mommy and reading Captain America with Daddy, and eventually, Skye immersed herself in her little imagination world enough to fall asleep and not have bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did we all think? Your comments give me the warm fuzzies. xxx


	25. Skye's Optimistic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. A lot's been happening. We had two floods and then our electricity broke. Yay. Plus the kids are back to school where I am so I've got a few more kids to tutor and my kiddies for my nighttime groups to plan for. Busy, busy busy. 
> 
> PLUS I posted three new fics...have you read them? *cough* shameless plug *cough*
> 
> Anywhoo, enjoy this chapter! Thanks for the love. <3

Lance climbed into bed beside Bobbi and found himself missing her juvenile Captain America sheets, and resenting the plain white ones on their borrowed bed. Even if they were Egyptian cotton with a ridiculous thread count. Their softness did not outweigh the unfamiliarity.

But God, were they soft. So soft.

“What’s up, Teacup?” Bobbi asked him quietly. She had a book in her lap above the covers, but he knew it was a prop to look relaxed more than anything. She had been on the same page since before he went in the shower. Bobbi smiled at him and put a hand on his cheek. “Okay?”

He nodded and turned his head to kiss her palm. It had been a long couple of days and he was exhausted. Not just tired, but proper draining exhaustion where he honestly thought he could feel it in his bones. Talking to his mother had taken whatever he had left out of him, but having Bobbi by his side through it all, well, she made it easier. Hunter kissed her hand again.

“I thought Skye might wake up, you know? First night in a strange place.” Lance said. He lay down and turned on his side, propping his chin up on Bobbi’s hip. “But I checked on her.” Hunter smiled. “Still out like a light.” The little girl hadn’t even stirred when he had checked in on her.

“That’s good.” Bobbi smiled.

Hunter breathed heavily out of his nose. “She’d chucked all the covers off. And the pillow.”

Bobbi threw her book on the floor over the side of the bed and threaded her fingers through his hair.

“I covered her back over with the duvet.” Hunter said. “Had to leave out the pillow, though. Couldn’t figure a way out to get it under her head without waking her up.”

“As long as she’s okay.” Bobbi said quietly, and then sighed. “God, this must be so confusing for her. It’s confusing for _me_ and I’m twenty-five. She’s just a baby, really.”

“Mm.” Lance agreed. He closed his eyes and nuzzled closer to Bobbi, nudging up the t-shirt she was wearing for bed, his t-shirt, with his nose and pressing a kiss to the bare skin of her stomach. “My mum called.” He said after a minute.

Bobbi’s hand didn’t stop its movement in his hair. Lance was fully aware she already knew of the phone call, but he was struggling to find a way to bring it up, and bless her heart, his darling wife seemed not to want to bring it up herself. She was good like that, always let him have his quiet inner reflections and never nagging him. Well, never nagging him about said inner reflections, the woman was perfectly happy to nag him all damn day about doing the ironing and not putting her bras in the dryer.

“My mum called.” Lance said again. He curled an arm around Bobbi’s waist. “She wanted to let me know that they’ve found somewhere to live.” He felt Bobbi’s stomach tense under his cheek. “Spain. She won’t tell me where. Says it’s none of my business.” He said bitterly.

“That’s not fair.” Bobbi said quietly. Her fingers rubbed at a spot behind his ear.

“She’s my mum, Bob.” He said. “She used to walk me to school every day until I was ten. She used to make me beans on toast and let me eat it in the living room so that I could watch _Blue Peter_.”

Bobbi kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back.

He swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what happened. She just started hating me.” He craned his neck to look up at her. “I don’t understand how she just stopped loving me.”

“She loves you.” Bobbi said. “I’m sure she does.”

Hunter scoffed. “She’s taking my sister away from me. She won’t tell me where they’re moving to. She talks to me like I’m scum. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong. Nothing. This isn’t your fault.”

Lance nodded and sighed “I need to go back, Bob.”

Her hand stopped its movement. “Back where?”

Hunter opened his eyes and looked up at her. “London.” He said, although he was sure she could guess. “My mum said they’re leaving next week.”

“Next _week_?” Bobbi sat up straighter, dislodging Hunter from resting on her stomach.

He sat up properly and ran a hand over his face. “I wouldn’t even mind if I thought they were looking after Jem properly.” Lance dug his fingernails into his palms in frustration. “But they’re not. They’re not, Bob.”

She gently flattened his hands in hers. “Don’t do that.” She said quietly, and kissed the little red arcs on his palms.

“Sorry.” He muttered. Lance turned to his wife, and the kind look on her face had his anger dissolving into sorrow. “They obviously don’t even want her.” He swallowed hard. “Mum could’ve just taken her and moved if that’s what she wanted, but she’s calling me and _telling_ me that they’re taking Jem. Like she’s trying to provoke me.” He shook his head. Bobbi put an arm around his shoulders and he laid his head on her chest. “I asked about her school, and my mum said she was just going to sort it out when they get there. I don’t think a responsible parent would just pluck their child out of school in the middle of the term and dump them in a new one where they can even speak the language.”

Bobbi made a soft noise in the back of her throat. “You think she’s trying to get you over there to bring Jemma back with you?”

Lance shrugged. “Sometimes. But she’s making it difficult for me.”

Bobbi kissed his temple. “When has she ever made it easy?”

Hunter had to agree. Maybe once upon a time, when he was very little, he and his mum had had some sort of connection. Maybe once over they had been a loving mother and son, but for too long it had felt like he was just fighting with her all the time. It wasn’t fair on him. It wasn’t fair on Jemma.

“She wouldn’t let me speak to Jemma.” He admitted. “Said if I wanted to see her again, I had to get back over there before they left.” Lance lifted his head and squeezed Bobbi’s hand. “I need to go, Bob. Convince them to let me have Jemma. She deserves better than the life she’s having with them.”

“I agree.” Bobbi said. She put a hand on his cheek. “A lot is happening to us right now, but we can’t let that stop you from doing something you’ve been trying to do since you turned eighteen. Jemma deserves a loving family.” Bobbi leaned forward and kissed him. “She deserves you.”

Hunter bumped his nose against hers. “What if I go and they take her away from me anyway?”

“Don’t let them.” Bobbi said assuredly. “Bring Jemma back with you. Bring her home.”

He frowned. “But what if-,”

“Bring that little girl home, Lance Hunter.” Bobbi said.

Lance found himself nodding. He couldn’t argue with her. Bobbi’s confidence in him was overwhelming.

“I love you.” He told her. “Honestly, Bob, I know I’m not always the best husband, that I can be a right arsehole when I want to be, but darlin’,” Lance closed his eyes for a second, then looked back at Bobbi’s shining back at him, “you make me better.”

She shook her head. “You’re perfect already, beautiful.” She smiled and kissed his nose.

“I’m an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot.” Bobbi agreed with a grin. “But you’re perfect, and I love you.”

He slumped against her side. “I love you. Never leave me, you psychotic Hell beast.”

She kissed his hair. “I never could, little Teacup.”

“Bob?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you not call me ‘Teacup’ in front of the lads? Tony’s been taking the piss out of me.”

Bobbi kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry, Teacup. I’ll kick his ass for you.”

Hunter smirked and cuddled closer to his wife. “Thanks, love.”

…

When Phil woke up at five thirty in the morning, Melinda was already out of bed. It was unusual. Rarely was he second awake to his wife, and certainly never at that particular early hour.

He got up and began a quick search for her through the house. The search came to an abrupt end before it had really even begun, when he found his wife curled up in Skye’s bed.

She had her back to the door and the duvet pulled up past her shoulders, but he knew her well enough to know that she wasn’t asleep.

“Mel?” He asked quietly, stepping into the room.

Melinda turned onto her back, head falling to the side to look at him. She smiled. “I’m okay.”

“Sure?” He asked, perching on the edge of the bed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure climbing into your absent daughter’s bed in the middle of the night is considered ‘healthy’ behaviour.”

“I used to sleep in Bobbi’s bed after she moved out.” Melinda reminded him and he smiled.

Phil rubbed her shoulder. “And Nat’s, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah.” Melinda sighed. “The sheets smell like her. It’s comforting.”

There was one of Skye’s pyjama tops peeking out from under her pillow. Phil pulled it out and pressed it to his nose, breathing in heavily. His chest panged with a need to hold his little girl in his arms. Phil rubbed the sleeve of the top between his fingers and tried not to cry.

Melinda squeezed his hand.

“A therapist would have a field day with us.” He muttered.

Mel rolled her eyes at him. “I could pretend that I’m in here because the baby is making my back ache and Skye’s mattress is more comfortable than ours’, but I wont bother.” Melinda held up the comforter for him and Phil climbed in beside her.

He groaned as he turned onto his side. “Oh my God. Skye’s bed _is_ way comfier than ours’.”

“I know.” She smiled.

“We should buy a new bed.”

“I’m all for that.” Mel said.

Phil arched his back and resisted the urge to groan again. “Seriously, this is amazing, where did we get this?”

“I dreamed about her.” Mel said.

He tuned to look at her, all thoughts of the mattress long gone. “What?”

“I dreamed about her last night.”

“Skye?” Phil asked.

“Mm.” Melinda nodded, smiling. “It was nice. It made me miss her so much, that’s why I came in here.”

“What was it about?”

Mel shrugged and curled around him. “Can’t remember. It was nice, though. She was happy.”

Phil laced their fingers together. He kissed her head. “Go back to sleep, Mel.”

“I don’t think I can.” She said, although her eyes had closed.

“Try.” Phil instructed gently. “Baby needs you to sleep.”

Melinda’s mouth quirked into a little smile. She moved their joined hands over her belly and flattened Phil’s out to rest there.

Phil imagined he could feel the tiny curve of her belly under his palm as the growing baby caused it to protrude slightly, but he couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t just wishing he could feel it. The baby. _His_ baby.

“You’re tiny, aren’t you?” Phil whispered to the baby. “But you’ll get bigger.”

Melinda opened her eyes to glance at him. “Something I’m not looking forward to.”

“Mommy’s just joking.” Phil told the baby, rubbing Melinda’s belly.

Mel chuckled. “Mommy’s just thinking about all the pairs of jeans she won’t be able to fit into.”

Phil gently stroked her belly. “But think of all the shopping for _new_ stuff you’ll be able to do.”

She quirked a brow at him. “I hate clothes shopping.”

“Fine.” Phil said. “Think of all the new stuff Bobbi will be able to buy for you _and_ the baby.” He kissed her cheek. “We let Bob loose in _Babies ‘R’ Us_ and the kid’ll have enough clothes to last until it’s thirty.”

Mel snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“Mm.” He kissed her. “I love you, too.”

Phil lay in Skye’s bed with Melinda, alternating between stroking her belly and stroking her hair, until she dozed off. Even after her breathing became deeper and the worry she carried around her eyes had smoothed out, Phil stayed by his wife’s side just to make sure she was okay.

_Make sure she was okay_. Yeah, right, Phil thought. The only thing that was ever going to make Mel ‘okay’ again was something beyond his control. She needed her little girl back.

Not just Melinda, either. Since Skye had been gone, Phil had been feeling a rabid emptiness within him. His little girl was living with her sister just ten minutes away, and yet, Phil felt as though a part of him had been ripped out.

It was cliché, but Phil felt as though he were missing a limb. It was as if he’d lost his left hand.

Eventually, he placed a gentle kiss to Melinda’s cheek, careful not to wake her, and extracted himself from the bed. He tucked Skye’s pyjama top under Mel’s chin and she hugged it to herself like a stuffed animal, unconsciously in her sleep.

Although he had been up for a while, it was still early when he left Melinda to go downstairs. Nat and Clint were still in their room and it was early enough that Phil had to switch on the lights when he got into the kitchen. Even the sun wasn’t awake yet. He thought that sounded like something Skye would say.

For a second, Phil just stood in the kitchen.

The quiet was too quiet. There was no little girl hanging from his arms and keeping him company while he made breakfast. He made his coffee and had no one to remind to be careful around the hot drinks. He ate his cereal with no little voice ‘ewing’ at the grossness of his muesli.

Phil missed his Skye.

As he was putting his dish in the sink, his eyes caught on the sonogram, still pinned up on the refrigerator amongst the other papers. The dark image stood out, and Phil found himself reaching out to trace the little outline of the baby.

“You picked a good family to get born into.” He said quietly. “Best mom in the world, you know.” Phil smiled to himself. “I’ll be a good dad, too. I promise. And Skye can show you the ropes. She’ll teach you about spies and how to _correctly_ play with Barbies.” He chuckled. “Because apparently there is a right and wrong way.”

Phil closed his eyes. “You’ll be loved here. Just like Bob, just like Nat, just like our Skye, you’ll be so loved.”

…

Skye woke up with a goal in mind.

She didn’t want to mope around the house. She didn’t want to dwell on the absence of her mommy and daddy. She didn’t want to be coddled by Bobbi and Hunter all day.

Skye wanted to go to school.

She got out of bed, got dressed, and even tidied the room a little. Well, soft of. She made the bed and replaced the pillow that she had thrown off the night before. The room looked almost as neat as when she had first seen it. Skye placed Mr. Snow at the head of the bed to keep watch, but when she made it to the bedroom door, her desire to keep him with her became stronger, and she ran back to get him. Sometimes Mr. Snow got lonely.

Brushing her teeth and going to the bathroom with the bear under her broken arm was a little difficult, but she managed. She had intended to wash her face, too, but with the dressing still over the cut on her forehead, Skye left it be and decided one day of having an unwashed face wouldn’t hurt her.

“You’re up?” Bobbi said when Skye left the bathroom and almost bumped into her in the hall. “I was going to let you sleep in.”

Skye hugged her sister around the waist, pressing her face into her tummy. She was still wearing her pyjamas and she smelled like Hunter’s clothes. Bobbi hugged her back, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. When Skye pulled away, she looked up at Bobbi with determination.

“I want to go to school.”

Bobbi looked surprised. “You do?”

“Yes.” Skye said. She tugged on Bobbi’s pyjama top. It had a soccer team’s logo on the front and Skye wondered if it actually belonged to Hunter. “Please, Bobbi. I want to go.”

“I’m not sure, Skye.” Bobbi ran her fingers through Skye’s hair and grimaced a little when she caught a snag. Skye hadn’t brushed her hair yet. Mommy usually did it for her. “I think maybe you should take a few days off.”

Skye shook her head. “But I miss my friends.”

Bobbi sat down in the middle of the hall and leaned her back against the wall. She tugged on Skye’s good arm and pulled her towards her. “It’s just, you only broke your wrist a couple of days ago. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“But it doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Skye said, which was a little bit of a lie because the bones ached a bit here and there. Bobbi frowned at her. “Well,” Skye mumbled, “it doesn’t hurt a lot.”

“Honey,” Bobbi sighed, “I just don’t want to send you off to school and then have you getting upset.”

“I won’t.” Skye argued. “I won’t be sad, I promise.”

Bobbi shook her head. “It’s okay to be upset, Skye. It is, I’m not saying you shouldn’t be sad, it’s just, I don’t want you to go to school when you didn’t have to.”

Skye sat down on the floor next to Bobbi and tucked herself into her sister’s side. She closed her eyes and held tight to Mr. Snow. “I miss Mommy and Daddy, and they’re the only thing in my head.” She looked up at Bobbi. “Nothing else can get in here.” Skye tapped her temple.

“And that’s why you want to go to school?”

“Yeah. I wanna go and play spies at recess and listen to Miss Potts tell us stories.” Skye looked down at her arm in the cast. The mommy and daddy drawn on there were still happy. “Mommy wouldn’t want me to be sad.”

Bobbi leaned over and kissed her temple. “No, she wouldn’t.” Her big sister was quiet for a few seconds, until she laced her fingers with Skye’s peeking out from the cast. “Okay. You can go to school.”

Skye grinned. “Really? I can?”

“Yes.” Bobbi smiled. “But you want to come away, just say the word, and I’ll have Pepper call me and I’ll come get you. Okay? All you have to do is ask, and I’ll come and get you.”

“Thank you.” Skye put her arms around Bobbi’s neck, being careful not to whack her on the head with the clunky cast. “I love you.”

Bobbi held her tightly. “I love you, too, Skye.” She kissed her. “Things will get better.”

Skye believed Bobbi, because Bobbi was her big sister. Bobbi was a grown up, she was smart, and she could draw really well, and if Bobbi said things were going to get better, then Skye had every reason to believe her. To know that Bobbi had such confidence in things improving, gave Skye a new spark of hope.

“When everything goes back to being perfect again,” Skye said, “I’m going to make sure they’ll be perfect forever.” She looked up at her sister. “How do you know that it’s going to get better?”

“Well,” Bobbi said, “I met someone yesterday who was very optimistic, and I’m taking a leaf out of her book.”

“What’s optimistic mean?”

Bobbi smiled. “It means being positive. Believing that good things will happen.”

Skye nodded. “That’s what I’m gonna be.”

…

Usually either Mommy or Daddy dropped Skye off at school, and they would walk her from the car to the gates, and then she could run off into the playground to find her friends. That was what happened on a normal day, but today wasn’t normal because Mommy and Daddy weren’t there to take her to school and Bobbi had to take her instead.

Bobbi walked her all the way up to her classroom. Other kids looked at them weirdly because it was unusual to see an unfamiliar adult inside of the school. Skye didn’t care though, she liked that Bobbi held her hand all the way inside.

“Okay, then, I guess I should leave?” Bobbi said. It sounded like a question, and she waited for Skye to say something before she continued to speak.

“Yeah.” Skye said. They were still holding hands.

“You sure about this?” Bobbi smoothed her hand through Skye’s ponytail. She had brushed her hair for her, and helped wash her face, even taking off the old dressing on her head wound and replacing it with a cool green band aid. “We can go back home?”

Skye shook her head. “It’s not home, there.”

Bobbi got down on her knees even though the hallway was dirty off all the kids’ shoes and she was wearing light jeans. “You just ask Pepper and she’ll call me.” Bobbi said, putting her hands on Skye’s shoulders. “Got it? I can be here in like six minutes if you need me.”

Skye cocked her head to one side. “Really? That’s fast.”

“I’d have to break a few laws,” Bobbi said flippantly, “but I could do it.”

“Please don’t break any laws.”

“Skye, for you, I’d break _all_ the laws.”

Skye giggled at Bobbi’s fake serious face. “Okay. But I don’t want you to go to jail.”

“Noted.” Bobbi kissed her forehead. “I guess I’ll see you later, baby sis.”

Skye hugged her tightly. “See you later.”

Even when Skye hung up her coat and backpack, and went into her classroom, she caught sight of Bobbi standing outside of the door, peeking in. She pretended not to see Bobbi and walked over to her desk to sit by Ward.

“Hey, Skye.” He grinned, before she even made it to her seat. “I was worried about you ‘cause Dad and Pepper told me what happened, and they said you hurt your wrist-,” he stopped speaking abruptly when she sat and he caught sight of her cast, “Oh my gosh, Skye. Is that a real cast? Can I touch it? Does it hurt? Are you okay? I like your band aid.” 

Skye was a little taken aback by all of Grant’s questions. She cradled her broken wrist to her chest and glanced over her shoulder. Bobbi had left, and for a second Skye considered running after her and asking her to take her home, but then, they wouldn’t be going _home_ , they’d be going back to the house. Skye would rather be at school.

“Skye?” Grant put a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”

She tried to smile at him, but it was hard. Instead she just nodded and traced the little drawings on her cast with her fingers. “I wasn’t supposed to come to school today. But I wanted to.”

“Oh.” Grant said.

Miss Potts wasn’t in the classroom, Skye wasn’t sure where she was, and some of the kids in the reading corner were being noisy and laughing. It made Skye feel a little anxious. She wished she could have brought Mr. Snow to school, but Hunter had been right when he warned her she might lose him at school. Hunter had promised to take care of her bear until she got back. She trusted him, and anyway, when he’d come down for breakfast he’d seemed a little sad, and Mr. Snow was good at cheering people up.

“I’m not allowed to see my Mommy or Daddy.” Skye told Grant. She kept her voice low and eyes on her lap.

“I know.” Grant said. “Pepper and Tony told me.”

Skye looked up at her friend. “You called him ‘Dad’ before.”

Grant smiled and it made a lot of Skye’s bad feelings go away to see him so happy. “Yeah. Um, yeah. Tony’s my dad. I’m just getting used to it.”

“That’s good.”

“Mmhm.” Ward rested his head on his hand. “He says you’ll be able to see your mom and dad soon.”

“Things will get better.” Skye repeated Bobbi’s words. “I’m being optimistic.”

Grant scrunched up his nose. “Huh?”

Skye chuckled and poked his cheek. He shook his head like a dog and batted her away.

“It means believing good things will happen.” Skye told him, simultaneously attempting to poke him in his sides while he squirmed away.

Grant caught her good wrist in his hand and held it away from him. “Can you still be a spy with a broken wrist?” He asked. “Because you weren’t here yesterday and playing spies on my own isn’t fun.”

“You could have played with someone else?”

He shook his head and let her hand go. “I tried to play with Jess and Peter, but they weren’t good at it. They just wanted to pretend to be spiders.”

Skye frowned. “Why?”

“Dunno.” Grant said. “Guess they like spiders.”

“I like spiders.” Skye said. “But I don’t wanna be one. I like being Agent Skye, and Agent Skye doesn’t let a stupid broken wrist stop her!”

Grant Ward grinned. “And Agent Ward will be here, anyway, so if Agent Skye needs help, he can save her.”

“Agent Skye won’t need _saved_. She does the saving.”

Miss Potts walked in the room from the hallway, and Skye caught sight of Bobbi leaving. She must have been speaking to Miss Potts out of view of the window instead of having left as Skye had thought. Miss Potts called for them to be quiet and get into their seats, and Skye turned and kept her eyes trained on the window in the classroom that looked out onto the playground.

She had to wait a few moments, but eventually she saw Bobbi crossing the empty playground and leave through the school gates.

Grant whispered to her. “Do you want to go with her?”

Skye shook her head. She couldn’t see her sister anymore. “I want to play spies.”

“Yeah.” Ward said. “Me, too.”

“Okay, everyone. Can we put on our listening ears, please?” Miss Potts said, and the kids quietened and turned their attention to her. “This morning I’d like for you all to get into the same groups as yesterday and we’ll continue with our projects.”

Kids around Skye began moving their seats and setting up the tables in new arrangements. She watched nervously as Jessica Drew skipped over to her and leaned on her table.

“Hi, Skye.” She said too loudly. “We need your chair.”

“Oh.” Skye said in surprise. “Why?”

“’Cause we do.” Jess said. “We need it for our group. We used that chair yesterday so we need it today.”

“Just get a different chair, Jessica.” Grant said a little irritably. He pushed her arms off his and Skye’s desk.

She put her hand on her hips. “But our group had _that_ chair yesterday. We need it. Give it to me.”

Skye didn’t want a fight, and just to avoid any more interaction with Jessica, she stood up out of her seat.

“Skye, don’t-,” Grant began to say, but Jess interrupted him.

“Cool.” She said, grabbing Skye’s broken wrist. “Skye’s got a cast.” She said it loud enough that children from the surrounding tables began making the effort to lean over one another and see her arm.

Grant stood up and tried to push Jessica away from Skye, but the girl caught sight of the little drawings on the bandage and pulled harder on Skye’s arm.

It hurt. Skye tried to get Jess off, but she wouldn’t let go, and it was _hurting_ her.

More and more of the kids in her class starting pushing to get around Skye and see her broken wrist for themselves. A little boy Skye didn’t know, tried to climb over the table behind her and ended up pushing Skye forward into her own desk. It didn’t really hurt, but then Jessica pulled her arm at an awkward angle to show one of the other girls and Skye began to cry.

“Get off.” She told Jessica. “Get _off_.”

“Wow.” Jess said, still holding her arm. “Don’t be a baby, Skye. I just wanted to see.”

Skye thought that she might hit Jessica. The kids around her were still pushing. Jess was still holding her cast. It was noisy, and hot, and Skye’s tummy felt tight. She knew it was wrong, and that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be happy with her, but Skye really thought she was going to hit Jessica Drew.

And then Grant Ward walked around the desk and pushed Jess to the ground.

“Hey!” Miss Potts shouted, _properly_ shouted like Skye had never heard before.

All of the kids went silent. Grant stood frozen, staring at Jessica on the floor. She turned slowly to Miss Potts.

“Grant pushed me.” She said, almost astonished that it had happened. “He pushed me over.”

And then the floodgates opened for the rest of the children to throw in their own opinions, and all hell broke loose.

“I saw. Grant pushed Jess.”

“Yeah. He did!”

“No. Jessica was being mean.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Uh- _huh!_ ”

“It was Skye’s fault. She was mean to Jess.”

“No. She was mean to Skye. Grant was helping Skye.”

“Was not.”

“Was so!”

“Enough!” Miss Potts held up her hands. “Everyone back to their desks.” No one moved. “Now!”

The children all mumbled to one another as they went back to their seats. Skye, even through her tears that had not yet stopped, could see many of the other kids watching her as they passed. She sat down, keeping her eyes on her desk where drips of tears fell from her nose.

“You three, with me.” Miss Potts said.

Skye didn’t look up to see who she meant, but she could make an educated guess that was confirmed when Grant took her hand and led her with him. She sniffled and he hugged her once they were out in the hall. It was quick, but it made Skye feel better.

Miss Potts knocked on the door of the classroom across the hall. “Could you watch my kids for a little? I need to deal with something.”

The T.A. from the other class smiled and nodded, sending a passing glance at Grant, Skye and Jess before stepping in their class. Miss Potts led them a little further down the hall until they reached a quiet space between classrooms. She gestured for them to line up against the wall. Skye stood next to Grant, keeping him in between her and Jessica.

“Okay. “Miss Potts said, looking between them. “Explain.”

Skye wiped at her eyes but said nothing. She looked to Ward but he was looking at Miss Potts’ shoes.

“It was Skye’s fault.” Jess said.

Grant’s head whipped around to her. “Are you _kidding_ me? This was you.”

“Grant.” Miss Potts warned.

He sputtered. “But-but, it was _her._ You.” He pointed to Jessica. “This was your fault, not Skye’s.”

Jessica looked down. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“You _hurt_ her.” Grant said. “You were pulling on her arm and it’s broken.”

Miss Potts looked at Skye. “That true?”

Skye nodded and hugged her wrist to her chest. “I-I asked her t-to get off but she wouldn’t.”

Jessica huffed. “I just wanted to see it. She was being a baby.”

“Her bone is broken, Jessica.” Miss Potts said. “Do you know how much you could have hurt Skye with what you were doing?”

Jessica was quiet.

“However,” Miss Potts looked at Grant, “what Jess did to Skye does _not_ forgive what you did to Jessica. Tell me what you did.”

He opened his mouth to answer and Miss Potts held up her finger.

“Be careful, now, with what you’re telling me.” She said. “Because I _saw_ what you did, Grant. Don’t try to lie to me.”

Grant wrung his fingers. “She wouldn’t leave Skye alone. She was hurting her. Skye was crying, Pepper.”

“And? What did you do?”

He looked away. “I pushed her over.”

Miss Potts nodded. “Alright. Does anyone have anything they’d like to say?”

Skye thought maybe she should say she was sorry. She didn’t feel sorry, and she wasn’t really sure what she had to be sorry about, but when you got into trouble that’s what you did. She looked over at Grant, but he was still looking at the ground.

He was upset, Skye could tell. Grant didn’t like hurting people. When he was Agent Ward he almost never used real, bullets, he liked to use the special guns that put people to sleep that Skye refused to call ‘night-night’ guns because it was a stupid name. She knew he was sorry, he was just stubborn.

Skye elbowed him and he looked over at her. “Tell Jessica you’re sorry.” She whispered.

Ward frowned. “Why?”

“You pushed her. Just say you’re sorry.” Skye said. “I know you feel bad.”

He sighed and looked to Miss Potts.

“Grant?” She asked.

“I’m sorry I pushed you over, Jessica.” He said, looking at Jessica’s shoes rather than her face. “I was just trying to help Skye. But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“S’okay.” Jess shrugged. She didn’t really look that upset about the whole ordeal, then again, Skye thought, Jessica often got into trouble for things so maybe she was just used to it.

“Jessica,” Miss Potts said, “maybe you have something to say to Skye?”

Jess walked around Grant to face Skye. She wrapped her arms around her and Skye stood frozen, unsure how to react. She was about to push her away when Jessica let her go and took a step back. “I’m sorry that I hurt your arm, Skye. I won’t pull on it again, promise. And I’m also sorry that I called you a baby. That wasn’t nice, either.”

Skye didn’t feel like smiling but she nodded. “It’s okay.”

“Great.” Jess chirped far too cheerily. “So now we’re all friends again.”

Grant exchanged a glance with Skye. “I guess.”

“Cool.” Jessica grinned.

Grant appeared as surprised as Skye felt at the change in Jessica’s demeanour. The two of them stood side by side and watched as Miss Potts dismissed Jess, and the girl skipped down the hall and waved to them as she went back into the classroom. When the door closed behind her, Grant turned to Miss Potts.

“That was weird.” Grant said. “She’s very happy for someone who just got into trouble.”

“Well,” Miss Potts said, “Jessica is no stranger to hallway talks.” She tipped her head at them. “Unlike you two. What happened in there, guys? You both know that’s not how we act.”

“I’m sorry, Pepper.” Grant said. He rubbed at his cheek. “I was mad. She was hurting Skye.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She hugged him quickly and Skye thought that if they weren’t in school then she would have hugged him longer.

Skye wiped the last of her tears away. “Thanks for pushing Jess for me.”

Miss Potts gave her a disapproving look.

“I mean, thanks even though it was a bad thing to do.” Skye corrected. “Thank you for getting her to stop hurting me.”

Grant smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“Skye, are you okay? Is your arm okay?”

Skye nodded. “Yeah. It’s okay now.”

“Good.” Miss Potts smiled. “I could call Bobbi if you’d like?”

Skye found herself considering the offer more than she thought she perhaps would. She looked over at Grant and he smiled at her. Having her best friend by her side made things a little easier, and now she was friends with Jessica again (apparently), going back into the class didn’t seem so bad.

“I’ll be okay. I wanna stay.”

“Great.” Miss Potts smiled brightly. “Well how about we go back into class and Grant can show you what he was doing yesterday.”

They walked back down the corridor and Grant told her about his project on lions and how she could help him with it if she wanted since the rest of the kids were in groups, and Skye didn’t feel so nervous anymore. As expected, the other kids in the class all looked up when they walked in, but Jessica smiled and gave Skye and thumbs up from where she was sitting with Peter Parker. Jess said something to him and he waved, too.

She helped Grant with the lion project, colouring in the lions he had already drawn the day before, and trying to help read the facts in the big book they had. Miss Potts helped when the words were too hard.

When it was time for recess, Grant and Skye both had big plans for Agent Ward and Agent Skye, but when they arrived at their special secret base underneath the slide, they were met by Peter Parker and Jessica Drew. Jessica smiled at them.

“Since we’re friends again, I thought we could play.” She said.

Grant glanced at Skye. “Well, actually, we were gonna play spies.”

“We like playing spies.” Jess said. “Right, Pete?”

“Sure.” Peter said, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“But yesterday you wanted to be spiders.” Grant said. “We can’t have spies and spiders. How would the spiders catch up with the spies? They’d be too small.”

“We could be spider-people.” Peter suggested quietly. They all looked to him and he blushed.

“Go ahead, Pete.” Jessica said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be shy, tell us your idea.” When she spoke to him, her voice was soft and not at all how she sounded most of the time.

He paused. “Um, well, you could be Spider-Woman and I’d be Spiderman, and we could help the Agents.”

Skye smiled. “That sounds cool. You guys could have powers.”

“Yeah.” Jess squealed. “Like shooting webs and stuff. Good idea, Peter.”

“Yeah, Peter.” Grant said. “Good idea.”

Peter blushed again and shrugged. “So, can we play?”

“Sure.” Skye said. She was excited to start their new game. Jessica smiled really big at her and Skye grinned back. “It can be girls against boys. We have to go on a mission to save…” She trailed off.

“Save the world.” Grant said. “It’s a race to save the world.”

“Okay.” Jess laughed, and struck a dramatic pose.

“Cool.” Peter smiled.

“Ready?” Grant looked over at Skye. She nodded. “Go!”

…

“But she’s my sister. My parents need Clint and I.” Natasha said into the phone. She had been arguing with the head of absences at their college for the last twenty minutes. Clint could only hear her side of the conversation, but from what he could gather, she wasn’t winning.

“Please understand what I’m telling you-,” Nat said. “No, but- hey, listen to me- don’t interrupt me.” She paused. “No, _you_ are the rude one, sir.”

They had called with the intention to get some more time at home with everything that was going on, but the college had been less than forthcoming with their sympathies.

“Well, fuck you!” Natasha exclaimed into the phone.

Clint looked over from where he was attempting to feed Lulu the tarantula some live crickets without them escaping into the house…again. He dropped the two insects into the tank and tried to remember if there had originally been three he was meant to feed her. Clint looked around himself and decided that if there _had_ been three, then Mr Cricket number three had earned his freedom and he could be let go.

Nat growled at her cell phone. “I’m sorry for swearing but it was that or a death threat, and what would you prefer Mr Hannigan? I’ve got a colourful selection of threats. At least twelve of them are in Russian and it makes them sound super angry.”

“Okay.” Clint said and took the phone from Tasha’s livid grasp before she _actually_ threatened the man with murder. She tried to take it back but her kept her away with his whole hand over her face. She squeaked in surprise. “Mr Hannigan?” He asked, using one foot to push Nat back.

“ _Hello?”_ The man replied.

“Yeah. Hi, Clint Barton here.” He said. Nat tried to bite him jokingly and he had to alter his hold and put her in a headlock. She grinned at him and he blew a raspberry in her face. “Not you.” He clarified to the man on the phone. “The fart sound was for my lovely girlfriend. Listen, sir, we need more time off school. That’s all we’re asking.”

_“Barton,”_ the man barked, _“as I told your little girlfriend there, before she got disrespectful with me, I cannot give you any authorised absences from your classes.”_

Nat stopped struggling playfully and sidled close enough to him to hear the other end of the phone conversation.

“But our family needs us, and it says in our course binders that we ‘can apply for authorised absences for family emergencies’.” Clint read the line directly from a binder open on their bed.

“ _From what I have heard so far, this ‘emergency’ does not require your presence.”_ Mr Hannigan gave an exasperated sigh. “ _You’re expected to be in your classes next week. Both of you. Now stop calling me.”_

“But-,” Clint tried.

“ _Stop calling, Barton. Goodbye.”_ The man hung up on him and Clint glared at the phone for good measure.

He looked at Nat. “What a dick.”

She flung her arms in the air. “I know, right? Urg, such a dick.”

Clint smirked. “I can’t believe you told him to ‘fuck off’.”

“He deserved it.” She muttered, leaning against his side.

“I know. I’m proud that you resisted the urge to threaten to kill him.”

“It was so hard.” Natasha admitted. She sighed. “I guess we just have to hope all this has worked itself out by the end of the week.”

“I guess so.” Clint kissed her. “Finger’s crossed.”

“Hm.” She wrapped both arms around him and Clint hugged her back. He kissed her hair and gently rocked them from side to side. He paused when his eyes fell on Lulu and her dinner.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

“There were only two crickets, right?”

She pulled her head back and looked up at him with an arched eyebrow. “No. Three.”

Clint grimaced. “Aw, cricket, no.”

Natasha patted his arm. “When Mom freaks out because she finds a cricket in her bed, you can explain how it got there.”

“Great.” Clint said. “How about next time we give Lulu food that’s already dead?”

Nat swatted him. “Tallulah likes the chase.” She smiled and let go of Clint to crouch by the tank. “Don’t you, baby? Yes you do. My gorgeous girl likes to murder the crickets herself.” Nat cooed. “Oh, baby girl likes to murder, yes she does. Yes she does!”

Clint looked on at his girlfriend making kissy faces at a spider with half a cricket in its mouth. “Remember when I said I’d marry you? Yeah, I take it back.”

She threw a shoe at him. “Too late, Barton. Can’t get rid of me now.”

“Damn.” He smiled pulling her up and back to him. “Guess I’m stuck with you, then.”

Tasha kissed him, letting her hand run through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Guess so.”

…

Skye was so distracted with helping Jessica colour in her picture of a giraffe, that it took for the other girl to nudge her with her elbow, for Skye to realise the teacher was calling her. They had been drawing African animals since lunch, and while Skye and Jess were making a big giraffe, Peter and Grant were cutting out strips of green paper to be the grass.

She left Jessica and her drawing to make her way over to Miss Potts and a person Skye knew worked in the office. Miss Potts smiled at her, but it wasn’t a real smile. She looked worried.

“What’s the matter?” Skye asked immediately. “Something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She told Skye. “But you need to go to the office with Ella. Okay?”

Skye glanced at Ella, and then back to Miss Potts. “Why?”

“Bobbi’s here.” Miss Potts said. “She’ll explain.”

“Do I need my stuff?”

“No.” Ella said. “Just leave it here. Come on, Skye.”

Skye didn’t want to go with Ella. Although she had seen her walking the halls, she didn’t know her at all and Skye didn’t really like going places with strangers. She stepped closer to Miss Potts.

“I don’t wanna go.” She said. “Not on my own.”

Miss Potts smiled at her and called Grant over.

“Could you go with Skye to the office?” She asked him. “Go with her and Ella, then come straight back, okay?”

He didn’t question her, just nodded and took Skye by the arm to lead her out of the classroom. Ella walked ahead of them and Grant spoke quietly to Skye.

“What’s going on?”

She shrugged. “They said Bobbi’s here but I could leave my stuff.”

He frowned. “So, you’re not going home?”

“Dunno.”

They reached the office and Bobbi was waiting for them. She waved at Grant and he smiled back. Skye hugged Bobbi tightly. She was a little afraid and she didn’t really know why.

“Back to class, Grant.” Ella said, ducking back into the office.

He nodded. “Later, Skye.” Grant said, and walked back to class. He glanced over his shoulder twice before turning a corner slipped him from view.

Skye turned her attention to Bobbi. “What’s going on?”

Bobbi bent down and picked Skye up. She didn’t need to be held, but the way Bobbi rocked her a little from side to side gave Skye the impression that maybe holding her was more for Bobbi than herself. She laid her head on Bobbi’s shoulder.

“Nothing bad, right?” Skye asked.

Bobbi kissed her. “I hope not.”

Skye cuddled her sister. “I’m being optimistic. It’s not gonna be bad.”

“Good thinking.”

Skye looked up when Principal Weaver exited her office with a policeman and a guy in a suit. He looked kind of mean and Skye tightened her arms around Bobbi.

“Alright, gentlemen.” Weaver said. “I’ll be in our staff room if you need me.” She smiled at Skye. “Just do your best, alright.”

Skye nodded, even though she had no idea of what she was agreeing to. Principal Weaver left, and the two guys by her door ushered Bobbi into the room. Bobbi patted Skye’s back and walked into the office, sitting down at one of the chairs across from where Weaver usually sat. The man in the suit took that seat and the police officer stood by the closed door.

“Hello, Skye.” The suit man said.

She looked up at Bobbi and her sister smiled at her. It was the same smile Miss Potts had given her earlier, fake.

Suit man drummed his fingers on the desk. Skye turned to him.

“Hi.” Skye said to him.

Suit man smiled and he didn’t look so mean. It felt a little like her first meeting with Nick Fury. He had seemed scary at first, but then Skye had liked him a lot. Maybe this guy would be the same.

“My name is Detective Blake.” He said. When he stopped smiling his face looked mean again.

“Your name is ‘Detective’?” Skye asked, and she felt Bobbi chuckle.

Detective Blake glared at her. Maybe he wasn’t so much like Nick Fury.

“Just call me Blake, Skye. Okay?”

Skye nodded. “Okay.”

“Well then,” Blake said, “lets get this over with and we can all go on with our lives.”

Skye turned to look back at her sister. “What’s happening? I wanna go back to my class.”

Bobbi kissed her. “This man is a police officer. You just need to answer a few questions, then you can go back. Promise.”

Blake coughed to get her attention. “Skye, you were in car accident.” He said, twiddling a pen in his fingers that Skye was sure didn’t belong to him, but was Principal Weavers from her desk. “I want to know who is responsible for that accident. Can you tell me?”

“Hey,” Bobbi said, “she’s eight, could you be a little kinder?”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Skye, can you tell me who is responsible, _please_?”

“Yes.” Skye said, and all eyes in the room seemed to zone in on her.

“You can?” Bobbi said, seemingly surprised.

Skye looked up to her. “Yes. I was there. I saw it.”

Blake knocked his fist on the desk. “Trauma can warp memories. Is it clear in your head? The memory of the crash?”

“I don’t like thinking about it.”

“But _can_ you?”

Skye held onto Bobbi’s arms around her. “If I tell you, can I go home with my Mommy and Daddy?”

Blake sat back in his chair. “It might speed up the process. Not making any promises, though?”

“But it might help?” Skye asked.

“Yes.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell you, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Seriously, I love to read them. All of them. I hope you all have good weeks, loves. All the best!


	26. Skye's Good News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! How is everyone doing? I hope you're all doing better than me who spent all day thinking it was Wednesday when it was actually Sunday....
> 
> (Hey, psst. Did you read my new fic about Mama Nat? You totes should.)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

“Wait.” Blake said gruffly, and Skye closed her mouth. He pulled something out of his pocket.

Blake was sat really far forward in his seat, leaning over Principal Weaver’s desk. He pushed some of the head teacher’s things to one side roughly and some pencils toppled off the edge of the desk. He had a little box in his hand that he pressed a couple of buttons on and placed close to Skye on the table.

“Now talk.” He said.

Skye looked at the box a little warily. She wasn’t really sure what it was. “What’s that?” She directed the question at Bobbi rather than Blake.

“It’s going to record what you say.” Blake said. “So talk, now, Skye. Tell me what happened in the car accident.”

Skye looked up to Bobbi who gave her a little reassuring nod and rubbed her arm. Skye swallowed and turned back to Blake. The man had both elbows resting on the desk, his fingers laced together.

Blake lifted his chin. “Anytime before Christmas, kid.”

Bobbi tightened her grip around Skye. Skye didn’t like Blake so much.

“Go ahead, honey.” Bobbi said quietly. She kissed the top of her head.

“Mommy and Daddy were in the car with me.” Skye began. She closed her eyes and tried her best to remember the crash exactly as it had happened. It wasn’t hard. As soon as she allowed herself to dwell on it, memories from that night came flooding back with frightening clarity. She flexed the fingers poking out from her cast. “I was in the back, and they were in the front.”

“Who was driving?” Blake asked.

“Mommy. She was driving and Daddy was in the passenger seat.” Skye tightened her grip on Bobbi’s arms. “They were in a fight.”

“They were fighting?”

“Yeah.” Skye said. She opened her eyes. Blake was leaning forward again. “I don’t know what about, but they were mad at each other.”

Blake tapped his fingers on the desk. “How mad?”

“Um…”

“Were they talking-fighting, shouting-fighting, physical-fighting?”

Skye frowned and breathed out heavily through her nose. “Talking. Maybe louder than normal talking, but not shouting. Not really.” Eight years of living in between the orphanage and foster parents had given Skye a trove of experience with what she considered to be ‘real’ fighting and ‘real’ shouting. What her mommy and daddy had been doing in the car that night had been bad, she hadn’t liked seeing it, but it had tame on the grand spectrum of things.

Blake nodded once. “Were they distracted?”

“Yes.” Skye said. “They didn’t see.”

“Didn’t see what?”

“The lights were on red, are the car was still moving.” She recollected. “Mommy and Daddy didn’t know the car was still moving.”

“So,” Blake said, “the lights changed and your car kept going?”

Skye shook her head quickly. She moved forward on Bobbi’s lap. “No, not _our_ car.”

“What?” Blake frowned.

“Not _our_ car.” Skye repeated. She looked up to her sister to find the same expression of confusion on her face, as reflected in Blake and the other police officer’s faces. “Mommy and Daddy were fighting.” Skye tried to explain again. “Mommy was driving, and they were fighting. The lights went red and at first we didn’t stop. But then Mommy stopped the car. They were still fighting, though.”

Skye looked between the people in the room. Bobbi still had her arms around her waist. Her lips were pressed together tightly. The policeman by the door had his eyes on Blake, and Blake himself was lounging in Principal Weaver’s chair, his hands laced behind his head. He had a little smile on his face.

“Are you telling me the truth, kid?” He asked.

She tried to be brave, puffed out her chest. “I am.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, tilting his head to one side. “What happened after your car stopped?”

“There was another car.” Skye said. She could see it all happening in her head. The images from the crash whipping around in her mind. She pressed her thumb to her lips and had to try really hard to resist sucking it. “It was silver. It was coming from the side and it didn’t stop.” She shuddered. “And then it hit the front of our car.” Skye took a stuttering breath and tried not to cry. Bobbi kissed her hair.

Blake cleared his throat. “Your car was stopped when the silver car hit?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re very sure about that?”

Skye nodded and stared him down. She moved her thumb away from her face. “Mommy and Daddy didn’t see it. But I know what I saw. We stopped and the other car hit us. It happened too fast to get out of the way.”

He looked above her to Bobbi. “You believe her?”

“Of course.” Bobbi said immediately. “Skye wouldn’t lie.”

“I wouldn’t.” Skye clarified. “Not about this, anyway.”

Blake sniffed and stood up out of his seat. He reached over the desk and took back the little recording box, putting it in his pocket. Skye watched as he grabbed a couple of pens from the desk, pocketing them, too.

The man ignored Skye speaking only to Bobbi. “I’m the best, Mrs Hunter.”

“Morse-Coulson.” Bobbi said and he arched an eyebrow. “It’s Mrs Morse-Coulson. I, um, I didn’t change my name when I got married. At least not yet.”

“I see.” Blake said. “Well, anyway, I’m the best in the business. I can sniff out the liars.” Only then did he even glance at Skye. “As it happens, I believe every word your sister has told me.”

“I _told_ you I was telling the truth.” Skye mumbled, a little mad he hadn’t believed her in the first place.

Blake put his hand in his pocket and pulled out what Skye thought was some sort of band-aid. She watched as he lifted his sleeve and stuck the little patch on his arm. Blake looked at Bobbi. “Trying to quit.” He said, and then pulled a packet of cigarettes out of the other pocket.

Bobbi shook her head. “I think you’re doing it wrong.”

He smirked. “One step at a time, Mrs Morse-Coulson.” Blake walked over to the office door and glanced over his shoulder. “Skye, it was nice to meet you, I guess.”

Skye opened her mouth to comment on the fact that his tone made it sound the furthest thing from the truth, but Blake cut her off before she got the chance.

“We’ll get all this crap sorted, kid. I do my job, you do yours, and you’ll be back to your mom and dad pretty soon.”

“Really?” Skye said hopefully.

“Sure. You just do your job, okay?”

Skye nodded, then frowned. “What’s my job?”

Blake ran his tongue over his teeth and flicked the carton of cigarettes in his hand. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Tell the truth. You do your job, it makes everyone else’s a lot easier.”

“Okay.” Skye said confidently. She could do that, she could be good and tell the truth.

“And, a word of advice, Mrs Morse-Coulson,” Blake said, “if you _do_ decide to change your last name, maybe stick with ‘Hunter’. I think triple-barrelled may be a little to much.”

Bobbi glared at him. “You’re a bit of an ass, sir.”

Blake grinned. “Not the first one to tell me that, sweetheart.” He left the room, motioning for the policeman to follow. “I’ll be in touch.” He called. The uniformed officer shrugged in a silent apology, and the two men left.

Skye looked up to her big sister. “That was weird.” Bobbi nodded and Skye looked back at the desk. “He was a police officer?”

“Yeah.”

“Did-did he steal some of Principal Weavers’ pens?” Skye eyed the now messy desk.

Bobbi lifted her down from the chair and stood up. “Stealing is wrong. Smoking is wrong. Being mean is wrong. Even if you’re a police officer, it’s still wrong.”

“Huh?” Skye was a little confused.

Her sister took her hand. “I’m just trying to cover all moral bases. I don’t want to take you back to mom and dad and have to be like ‘I tried, but I think I corrupted your kid by exposing her to a shady cop.’”

“I won’t steal or smoke or be mean.” Skye promised. She hugged Bobbi. “You haven’t corrupted me.”

Bobbi hugged her back, laughing. “Do you even know what ‘corrupted’ means?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then.” Bobbi chuckled. “You want to come home with me, or go back to class until the end of the day?”

“I wanna stay at school.” Skye said. “I was colouring. We were drawing giraffes.”

“Oh, well I wouldn’t want you to miss out on that.”

Skye leaned up on her tiptoes and motioned for Bobbi to lean down so that she could kiss her goodbye. “I’ll be okay in class. I promise.”

Bobbi kissed her, too. “In that case, I will see you later, little sis.”

Skye pulled away and began skipping back down the corridor to her class. She turned around to throw a wave in Bobbi’s direction. Her big sister waved back.

Blake was a strange cop. He was mean and he took things that weren’t his, Bobbi had even called him an ‘ass’ which Skye found hilarious, but he had said he was the best. Skye trusted he was the best. She trusted his word, and she trusted that she was going to be back with her mommy and daddy soon.

The class were still working on their projects when she re-entered the room, so no one seemed to pay her much attention except for Miss Potts and Grant, both of whom were sitting at the teacher’s desk. Grant jumped up and greeted her at the door.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking her up and down.

Skye nodded. “Fine. I’m fine. It was nothing bad.” She assured him as they walked over to the desk together. “Not really.”

“What happened?”

“Some police guy asked me about the crash.” Skye told Grant as the two sat down next to Miss Potts. Her teacher smiled at her and went back to her work. Skye was sure she was still listening to them, though. “I had to tell him what I remembered. Bobbi stayed with me.”

“I had to talk to the police after they took me away from my mom.” Grant said. He frowned at his paper on the desk. “I didn’t really like it.”

“It wasn’t so bad. Bobbi was there.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess.”

Skye took the pencil Grant offered her and began colouring in a section of grass on his page. “He said as long as I tell the truth, then I can go back to my mommy and daddy.”

Grant raised his eyebrows. “Really? That’s great! When?”

“He just said ‘soon’. Skye twisted her face. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“Soon sounds good.”

“Yeah?” Skye asked. ‘Soon’ sounded pretty great to her, too, but it was nice to hear it solidified by her best friend.

“I think so.” Grant went back to copying something down, and Skye returned to colouring in the grass, so neither spoke for a few minutes.

Skye was so intently trying to stay in the lines for Grant’s picture, that when he spoke again, she almost missed it.

“Hey, Skye.” He said quietly without looking up.

“Yeah?”

“I hope you get you mom and dad back.” He glanced over and smiled a little, then looked back at his paper.

“Thanks.” She rubbed her thumb over the smiling family on her cast. “I hope so, too.”

…

Nick Fury was getting too old for this crap. He was not above letting everyone around him know this fact.

“I am getting too old for this crap.”

“I know.” Maria Hill groaned from her place sprawled over his office couch. “You have told me _literally_ seven times in the last three days.”

He huffed. “It’s been a trying three days.”

“Yeah, it has.” She agreed. “Anyway, listen, I need to go back to work. Are we done here?”

Fury looked down at the papers in front of him. He’d known Maria for years, having worked with her father when they were younger and they’d both been teachers at the same high school. Maria had been a sarcastic little teenager with too much nerve and not enough respect for her elders when Fury had first met her. She had told him to ‘fuck off’ within the first sixty seconds of their first meeting, and that’s when Nick Fury had decided he really liked Maria Hill.

Fury had lost touch with her father a little over the years, the man having moved to Canada after marrying his second wife, but he had always made a bit more of an effort to keep in touch with Maria. They didn’t get to meet up as much as he would have liked, but he frequently made the effort to call her on the phone and send regular emails. Her relationship with her dad was less than ideal, and Nick had found himself with a paternal love for the bratty teen-turned-marine-turned-personal trainer.

Nick shuffled through his papers. Maria had filled them in without error, answering every question with a loving heart and precise detail. He’d needed some ‘personal’ referees for Melinda and Phil Coulson who were willing to vouch for their characters, and while looking for willing participants down at Coulson’s gym, he had ran straight into Maria.

“How in the hell did I have no idea your bestie was Melinda Coulson?” Fury asked, casting the papers aside to file later.

Maria cocked an eyebrow at him. “Did you just say ‘bestie’?”

“Shut your mouth, sunshine.” He glared at her and she smirked back. “Seriously. Melinda Coulson is your boss, your _best_ friend and it just bypassed me completely.”

She shrugged and picked at some polish on her nails. “To be fair, when we talk I don’t really talk about my friends by name. Or at least not their full name. I’m sure I’ve mentioned ‘my friend Mel with the kids’ before.”

Nick tried to recall any mention of the Coulsons before his involvement with Skye’s case, but came up blank.

“Maybe you just don’t listen to me.” Maria teased. “At least you knew where I worked.”

“Hm.” Nick hummed. He had been fully aware that Maria had worked at the gym owned by Phil and Melinda, but the chain was large and the gym Maria worked in was massive in itself. Nick had kind of just assumed she had no contact with the owners. “I didn’t realise how much time Melinda and Phil spent in the gym. They’re certainly dedicated.”

“Sure are.” Maria said. “Honestly, they’re successful enough that they’d never have to work another day in their life if they didn’t want to, and yet they practically spend as much time working as they do at home.”

Fury blinked at her.

“That being said,” Maria said quickly, “their dedication to their children is admirable.”

He snorted. “I wasn’t going to reprimand them for working.”

“I was just making sure.”

“Hill, Don’t worry. I’m getting that little girl back to her parents.” Fury said. He glanced over at the papers on his desk. “That kid Steven Rogers seems like a good guy.” Nick commented, picking up Steven’s referee for the Coulsons. The handwriting was frighteningly neat, nothing like Maria’s, and the man had ended practically every point he made with the phrase ‘I give you my word’. For some reason, Fury trusted his word.

“Steve.” Maria said. “Not ‘Steven’. He prefers ‘Steve.’”

“I see.”

Maria continued to pick at her cuticles. Nick attempted to catch her eye, but the woman appeared determined to look away from him.

“Are you and _Steve_ close, then?” He tried to ask conversationally.

Her cheeks began to take on a pinkish hue. “We’re just friends.”

Nick smirked at her. “Maria, you’re a grown woman, if you and Rogers are seeing each other I’m not going to be mad about it.”

She looked up at him a little sheepishly. “What if we’ve been secretly living together for six months?”

He coughed a little. “That would be surprising.”

She smiled. “But you wouldn’t be mad?”

“Not mad, per se.” Nick muttered. “Might have to give Rogers the ‘dad’ talk. Maybe threaten his life.”

Maria stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “Please don’t kill my boyfriend.”

“I said _‘threaten’_ his life. Not ‘take’ his life.” Nick stood from his chair and placed a hand on Maria’s shoulder, ducking his head slightly. “He good to you, sunshine?”

She smiled brightly at him, expression glowing in a way that reflected his favourite nickname for her. “He does, Nick. He really does.” Maria hugged him quickly. “Steve’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love him.”

Fury kissed her head as she pulled away. “If he hurts you, you tell me and I’ll make him disappear.”

She laughed. “Will do, sir.”

“Now get outta here. Get back to work, slacker.”

Maria laughed and left his office with a salute.

…

There was some commotion going on in the hall just around the corner from Fury’s office when Maria was walking back to her car. She had been to Nick’s office a few times before to visit him on various occasions, and more than once she had witnessed an outburst from a client.

Nick worked in social care, particularly with kids who had been removed from parental care, so apparently eruptions like that were not uncommon when angry parents were involved. This commotion, however, Maria realised, was not coming from a furious parent, but from a little girl.

Maria stood to the side of the hallway and watched as a blonde little girl sat sobbing in the centre of the walkway. Two women in smart dress stood over the crying child, speaking in what Maria thought was supposed to be a soothing manner, although judging from the little girl’s weeping, it wasn’t working. One of the women put a hand on the child’s shoulder and the little girl pushed her away.

“Leave me alone!” She shouted, wrapping her arms around her legs and dropping her head to hide in her knees.

The two women exchanged glances, then stood up and left the little girl alone in the hall. They walked past Maria and she caught the arm of the closest one. Both women stopped and she eyed their identification badges.

“Is she okay?” Maria asked, nodding over to the kid.

“Not really.” One of the women answered, and the other nodded her agreement. “But we’re just receptionists. We’re not qualified. The kid’s waiting on Fury. Don’t know what happened. One of the nuns came and dropped her off. She’s been like that the whole time.”

The two receptionists left, chatting quietly to each other. They seemed rather unconcerned for the little girl, but Maria couldn’t stand to walk past the kid on the way to her car without at least attempting to comfort her.

As it happened, as soon as Maria sat herself down next to the child, she realised that the girl really didn’t want comforting. She glanced over at Maria and shuffled away from her. She muttered something Maria didn’t catch.

“Erm, so,” Maria tried, “you know Nick Fury?”

The little girl sniffled and looked up, but didn’t say anything.

“He and I go way back.” Maria told her. She took a tissue from her pocket and held it out in the girl’s direction. “I’ve known him since I was fifteen.”

The girl took the tissue. “That’s a long time.” She said quietly.

“Are you saying I look old?”

The child smiled a tiny bit and Maria felt herself smiling, too. She stretched her legs out in front of her. “You seem a little sad, kid.”

The girl scoffed and tore the tissue a little. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Any particular reason, or just a bad day?”

“They brought me here.” She said. “And whenever I come here, it’s because of something bad. I try to be optimistic, but it’s really hard when I’m here.”

Maria nodded. “You’re expecting bad news?”

“Yes.” The girl kept her eyes in her hands. “My aunt’s in the Air Force. My dad was, too, and when he died they brought me here to tell me. I get worried that Nicky is going to tell me she’s gone, too.”

Her heart bled for the little girl. Maria herself had been on the receiving end of bad news at the hands of the armed forces. She had been an adult, yes, but it had been one of her best friends killed in action. It had been the beginning of the end for her career in the forces. She hadn’t been able to cope.

The fact that this little girl had already been through so much, well, it made Maria angry at things she couldn’t control.

“I’m sure your aunt is okay.” She said. It was a lie, and at the disbelieving look on the girl’s face Maria regretted it. “I mean, I’m sure she’ll do her best to come home to you.”

The girl nodded, but didn’t smile.

“What’s your name?” Maria asked.

The girl swallowed. “I’m Shannon.” She said.

“Maria.” She introduced, holding out her hand for the girl. She took it and they shook.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been giving a very good first impression.” Shannon sighed. “I try to be happy most of the time. All of the time.”

“Shannon, you don’t have to be happy _all_ of the time.”

The girl smiled sadly. “You do when you’re trying to find a family.”

Maria’s heart broke. She opened to mouth to say…what? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter anyway, because Fury appeared from round the corner, stopping at the sight of the two people on the ground. His expression softened. Shannon sat up straighter at the sight of him.

“Everything’s okay.” He said, holding up his hands. “Your aunt’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

Shannon stood and rushed over to him, hugging Nick quickly then stepping back with a smile that Maria thought brightened the whole building.

“She’s okay? She’s not hurt? It’s not bad news?”

“No. No bad news.” Fury said gently. “I’m sorry they let you believe that.”

“Sister Margaret wouldn’t tell me what this was about.” Shannon admitted.

Something dark crossed Fury’s face but Maria watched as he blinked it away.

“They should have told you. This is just a general meeting about everything. About how you’re doing, how you’re feeling.” Nick put a hand on her shoulder. “Just the usual. I was going to come to you but I’ve been really busy.”

“Oh.” Shannon said. She wiped her eyes and nodded. Her posture changed and she smiled brightly, the only evidence of her previous trauma in the red rims of her eyes. “Can we go to your office now, please?” She asked Nick.

“Sure. Let’s go, kiddo.”

Shannon nodded and turned to skip away. At the last moment she took the few steps back to Maria and wrapped her arms around her waist. It caught Maria off guard and she found herself awkwardly patting the girl’s back.

“Thank you, Maria.” Shannon said, pulling away. She took a step back and looked at the ground. “Thanks for making me feel better when I was sad. It was nice to meet you.”

“And you.” Maria said dumbly. She looked over to Nick who was smiling at the two. “Um, I hope to see you soon, Shannon.” She said, and the child’s eyes lit up when she looked up.

“Really? You’d like to see me again.”

Maria didn’t hesitate when she said, “I really would.”

“Okay.” Shannon blushed and gave Maria another hug. This one she returned. “Bye, Maria.”

Fury smirked. “Yeah, bye, Maria.” He ushered Shannon towards his office and gave Maria a little wave. “I’ll call you, sunshine. Looks like you made a new friend.”

Maria watched them retreat into the office. “Yeah.” She said to no one. “I guess I did.”

…

When Bobbi got home from leaving Skye at school, Hunter was packing a suitcase.

She walked into the bedroom with the story of Officer Blake and Skye’s interview fresh on her tongue, but the words died when Lance looked up at her from his place by the case on the floor. He sighed and held out his hand to her.

“Bobbi…” He wrapped both arms around her when she sat down and settled herself against him. “I’ve got to go.”

“I know.” Bobbi murmured into his chest. He was wearing one of the shirts she usually wore to bed, and the soft worn fabric made her nose tingle when she brushed against it.

Lance held her for a little longer, the two of them sitting quietly on the bedroom floor. He nudged the suitcase with his foot. “I got a flight for tomorrow morning.” He said.

She had known he would have to leave. She had told him, _ordered_ him, to go back to London herself. His little sister didn’t just mean a lot to Lance, Bobbi loved Jemma a lot, too, and it wasn’t fair that the little girl could be taken away from the people who truly loved her because her parents were selfish.

“I’ll miss you.” Bobbi told him.

Hunter kissed her. Kissed her again. “When I bring Jemma home, we’ll be a family. A proper one.”

She curled her fingers around his ear. “Is there such a thing as a ‘proper’ family?”

“Course there is.” Lance smiled. He tugged lightly on the ends of her hair and kissed her lips. “There’s no such thing as a ‘normal’ family. I know that. But we can be a _proper_ one.”

“Proper?”

“One that loves each other.” He said. “A family that wants to be together. A family that tries for each other.”

Bobbi nodded. “We can be that.”

“We can.” He leaned over and pressed his nose into her shoulder, holding her tightly to him. “Why does it have to be so hard, Bob?”

She kissed his hair. Tears burned at the backs of her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Did I do something wrong? Is that why?” Lance’s breath caught. “I must have been pretty shitty at some point to deserve this.”

Bobbi pushed him off her shoulder and held his face between her hands. “Sometimes life deals a crap hand, and it’s no one’s fault.”

Hunter watched her with apt attention.

“Do you think that I’ve deserved what I’ve been through? Nat? Clint? Do they deserve it?”

“No, of course not-,”

“Skye certainly hasn’t.” Bobbi continued. “Or Jemma. We don’t deserve the bad things that have happened to us, none of us do, but we can make it better.”

He blinked and a tear dropped down his cheek. “It’s just not fair.”

Bobbi shrugged and hugged him. “It’s not.”

Hunter cried for his sister, he cried for his wife, he cried for his family, for the bad things that none of them deserved. He cried for himself, and throughout it, Bobbi held him and shared in his pain. He kissed his cheeks, and he kissed hers.

He caught her hand and brought it up to her lips. “We deserve to be happy, don’t we?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “And we will be. All of us. Skye will go back to my mom and dad,”

“And we’ll get Jem back with us.”

“And we’ll be a proper family.”

Lance swallowed. “I love you.”

They kissed, and Bobbi squeezed his hand. “Don’t you go getting upset when I’m not there to comfort you.” She ordered with a smile. “You go back to London and you be strong for that little girl waiting on you. I’ll be here for cuddles when you get back our girl. I’ll be waiting.”

“I love you, Bobo.”

Bobbi narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you just call me?”

“Bobo?” Lance grimaced. “No? I was trying it out. Thought it was cute.”

She frowned. He grinned.

“Come on, it’s cuter than ‘Hell Beast’.” He tickled her sides and Bobbi couldn’t help but squirm away. “Bobo. Bobo. Bobo.” Lance teased.

“Urg. Has the ship sailed on the new pet name?”

“Sure has, Bobo.”

Bobbi sighed exasperatedly and rolled her eyes. “Teacup, you better be grateful I love you too much to kill you in your sleep.”

“Darlin’, I count my blessings every day.”

…

Spending her days with out a certain little girl to care for, reminded Melinda exactly why she and Phil had decided to foster another child in the first place. When it came to a life without a little one to take care of, something just didn’t sit right. Sure, some couples went their entire lives without having children, and that was fine, great, if that’s what worked for them, but for Phil and Melinda, they thrived on the love for their children.

Really, Mel just missed her Skye. The days were empty without her.

After Nat and Clint had moved out, Mel had had work to distract her. It had been hard, but doable, and eventually the days had become a little easier, that was until the emptiness returned with a vengeance and the decision to take on Skye had been solidified. Since Skye had been taken from then, neither Phil nor Mel had found they felt up to going to work, and their doctor’s notes forbade it, anyway. It meant there was no distraction.

“I don’t like how much daytime TV we’ve been watching.” Phil commented from his position on the couch. He was frowning heavily at a soap opera on the screen. “I’m beginning to genuinely care about the welfare of this character and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Melinda rolled her eyes and went back to fiddling with her phone. She had managed to kill a fair amount of ‘Skyeless’ time by deleting emails, sorting through her text messages, and was now skimming through her photographs, deleting any pointless ones.

For some reason she had thirty-seven photographs of what she thought were maybe Clint’s shoes from different angles and decided it may be time to change her password. Beyond the shoe pictures however, most of the images were of her children, a high percentage of the most recent picture being of Skye.

Melinda swallowed thickly.

“Hey,” Phil said, and she looked over to him, swiping at her eyes, “okay?”

“Yeah.” She said. Mel glanced back down at the phone, a photograph of Skye, obviously taken by the little girl herself, was smiling back at her. “Just missing our Skye.”

“Mm.”

She chuckled at another photograph of Mr. Snow and Skye, faces pressed together to fit in the frame. “She’s quite the photographer.”

Phil shuffled further towards her side to peer over at the phone. He flicked past a few more photographs and stopped at one of Skye, Bobbi, and Nat, all huddled together on the couch in the playroom. One of the boys must have taken it, Mel thought, because it was the first time she had seen it.

“We have wonderful children.” Phil said with a smile. “Look at them. We did that.”

Melinda cuddled close to her husband and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She watched his face contort a little as he moved.

“You’re hurting.” She said.

He waved her off. “I’m fine.”

She kissed him. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Phil cupped her cheek. “Stop it. This will be the end of me telling to stop apologising, Mel. Okay?”

She couldn’t say no to him. Her guilt was crippling, but Phil’s love and faith in her was overwhelming and she found herself collapsing into his arms and burying her face in his shoulder.

“I just need her back, Phil.” Mel cried. Her hands caught in his t-shirt sleeve. “We can’t lose her. We can’t.”

“We won’t.” He rubbed her back. “We won’t.”

The doorbell rang. Mel and Phil looked to each other.

“Are we expecting anyone?” Mel asked. “Where are Nat and Clint?”

Phil shook his head. “They’re out. They’ve both got keys. It’s not them.” He kissed her head and got up from the couch to answer the door.

Melinda wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She put her phone back in her pocket and stood in the centre of the room.

She had a clear view of the front door from her position in the living room, and so, saw the moment Phil opened up their front door to a large man she didn’t recognise. Phil apparently didn’t know him either, because he said, “Can I help you?”

The man in the leather jacket smiled, and Mel took a few more steps towards the door, she saw he also had an eye patch.

“Hello, Mr Coulson.” The man said. “Mrs Coulson.” He looked over Phil’s shoulder at her.

“Hi.” Mel said.

“Hello.” Phil greeted. “Um, how can we help you?”

“My name is Nick Fury. I’m a head social worker, and I think I have some good news for you.”

Phil blinked and glanced to Melinda. “Perhaps you should come inside.”

…

Phil stared at the man sat in his kitchen.

Although Phil had invited him inside, Fury had taken it upon himself to sit down at the island in the kitchen and suggest they all have a drink together. Phil tried to be hospitable, and Melinda smiled and offered to take Fury’s coat, but it was obvious that there was only one thing on their minds.

Nick Fury drank his cup of coffee, glancing around at the pictures on their walls. For a long time he seemed to dwell on one of Bobbi’s larger drawings, an art project from when she had been in high school and her teacher had asked the class to draw ‘happiness’. Phil couldn’t help but smile as he too looked at the drawing. Seventeen-year-old Bobbi’s ‘happiness’ was a detailed pencil drawing of an eye with the iris reflecting depictions of her parents.

“Our eldest daughter drew that when she was in school.” Phil said.

Fury nodded. “Bobbi. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Bobbi. Next time I see her I’ll have to compliment her artistic ability.”

“She’s good.” Phil said.

Fury had a gentle smile on his face when he turned back to them. The man had been nothing but polite and kind to them, but Phil still felt as though he was being judged. It was an automatic anxiety that came with meeting any employees from the social care system. Phil sat down next to Melinda at the kitchen counter and took her hand. She squeezed it.

“Thank you for the coffee.” Fury said, addressing them both. “But I’m sure you would like to get on with what I’m _actually_ here for.”

“Skye.” Melinda said.

“Yes. Skye.” Fury smiled. “She’s quite the kid.”

Phil heard Mel gasp beside him. “You’ve seen her? Is she okay? Please, tell me she’s okay?”

“Skye is fine.” Fury assured them. “Shaken, obviously, but she’s hanging in there. Much better now she’s staying with Bobbi and Hunter.”

“Please,” Phil said, “when can we get our little girl back?”

Fury looked between them. “I’ve spoken to the police.” He said. “They’ve been conducting interviews all day with witnesses of the accident. Including an interview with Skye.”

Phil felt cold all over. “They forced Skye into a police interview?”

“It was necessary.” Fury said. “And I can assure you that Skye was well taken care of. The interview took place in her school, and Bobbi accompanied her the whole time. I made _sure_ that Skye would be accompanied for the whole duration of her questioning.”

Melinda leaned forward. “Is she okay?”

“I’m told Skye was very helpful.” Fury looked proud. “She was able to give some very good and informative answers. The police were very happy with her answers.”

“Happy with her answers?” Mel asked. “What do you mean?”

The social worker placed his coffee to one side. “Skye defended you both in her interview. The police have the right to believe that what she says is fact. Along with some personal testimonies I was able to get from some people who know you both well, I can confirm that we are happy to return Skye to your care.”

Mel’s grip on Phil’s hand became crushing. “Are you serious?” She whispered. Phil wanted to ask the same question but he couldn’t get his body to cooperate.

“I am very serious.” Nick Fury said. “The accident has been deemed to be as such on your part.” He leaned towards Mel. “You are not responsible for what happened, Melinda. You’re not.” He smiled at them both. “I’ve had the opportunity to speak with Skye at length, and I truly believe that she belongs with her family. That little girl needs her parents.”

“We need her.” Phil said. He voice caught. “When can we see her?”

Fury looked at his watch. “She’ll be coming out of school soon?”

Melinda nodded. “Twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” Fury said. “This has all been rushed through because I like Skye. I also found that a close friend of mine is also a close friend of yours, and I’ve made the effort not to piss her off.”

Phil frowned. “Who?”

“Maria Hill.”

“Oh.” Mel said. “She texted me today. Asked if I was alright. I never replied.” Melinda looked down at the counter.

Fury nodded. “She assured me of your capability as parents, and I rushed this whole thing through. But even with the rush, you’re not going to be able to see Skye from school.”

Phil had anticipated that, but it didn’t make the sting hurt any less. He sighed and his broken ribs twanged with the effort.

Melinda sat up straighter. Phil thought she looked a little pale. He was about to ask her is she was feeling okay when she began speaking herself.

“What’s the next step?” She asked Fury. “Tell me what to do to get my little girl back.”

He looked between them and reached down to lift a hefty wad of papers from his bag onto the counter. “Get ready to complete more paperwork than you ever have before.”

“And then we get to bring Skye home?”

“And then,” Fury said, “I will supervise Skye’s return to you home.”

Melinda looked to Phil. She tiled her head and he nodded back.

“Give me a pen.”

…

When Skye caught sight of Bobbi in the playground at the end of the school day, she was thrilled to see she wasn’t alone. Aside from Bobbi, who appeared to be on the phone, Natasha and Clint were both waiting for her by the gates.

“There she is!” Clint grinned when she ran over.

Skye hugged him and Nat tightly. Bobbi patted her head and gave her a little wave, but whatever conversation she was having on the phone seemed to be important and Bobbi walked briskly ahead of them to the car.

“How was school?” Nat asked, taking her hand.

“Who is Bobbi talking to?” Skye asked.

Natasha and Clint exchanged a grown-up look with each other that Skye couldn’t decipher.

“Don’t worry about who she’s talking to, okay?” Clint smiled. “Hey, did you play spies again today?”

Skye frowned. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“What?”

“Not answering my questions.” Skye said. “Natasha, who is Bobbi talking to?”

Nat sighed and stopped walking. She crouched down in front of Skye, putting her hands on her shoulders. “It could be good news.” Nat said. “But I don’t know. If it’s not good news I don’t want to give you false hope.”

Clint nodded in agreement when Skye looked to him.

“You guys should be being _optimistic_.” Skye said, and the two adults gave her amused looks. “It means being positive that good things will happen.”

“I know what it means.” Clint chuckled. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am right. Good things will happen.” Skye said confidently. She took Nat’s hand again, also taking Clint’s and led her siblings to the car after Bobbi. It was hard to hold Clint’s hand with her cast on, but he gently held her fingers. “Bobbi said so and so did the police officer from today.”

Nat swung their hands. “I hope it’s good news, malyutka. You deserve good news.”

“Everyone deserves good news.” Skye shrugged. “I just want mine to be that I can go home to be with Mommy and Daddy.”

When they got to the car, Bobbi was in the passenger seat, still talking on the phone in hushed tones. She was smiling a little, but when she caught sight of Skye, she turned away. Hunter was in the car, too. He got out to greet Skye and held out his arms for a hug. Skye was happy to oblige him.

“I needed cheering up, sweets.” Hunter said, hugging Skye tightly. “Your cuddles do a good job of that.”

Skye pulled away a little, keeping her arms around his neck. “Why do you need to be cheered up?”

He smiled at her, but it wasn’t a proper smile and seeing the expression on his face made Skye’s heart hurt. “I’ve had a day of it.” He sighed. “Just one of those days, Skye.”

She hugged him again and gave him a kiss, squeezing extra hard. “Am I making you feel better?”

“You are, lovely.” Lance chuckled. It sounded like a real laugh. “I need to leave for a bit, and I’ll miss you, but that was such a good hug that I think it’ll keep me going until I get back.”

Hunter stood up and tried to help Skye into the car, but she pulled back.

“Where are you going?” She asked. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He rubbed the back of his head and looked over to Natasha. Clint shrugged and climbed into the front of the car.

“Hunter has to go and see his family in England.” Nat said. She tried to shepherd Skye into her car seat but the little girl resisted.

“But why?” She asked Lance.

“I need to go and see my sister.”

“Jemma.” Skye supplied. “Are you going to bring her here to be in our family?”

“Perceptive.” He muttered, and Natasha laughed.

“Certainly is.” She agreed. “Come on, Skye. Get in the car.” Her sister peered into the car through the back. Bobbi wasn’t talking on the phone anymore and she gave Nat a thumbs up. Natasha grinned. “In the car, Skye.” She instructed. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

“We have?” Skye asked, climbing into her seat.

Bobbi turned around to face her. “Hunter needs to finish packing, and you need to start.”

“Huh?” Skye cocked her head to one side in confusion. Clint turned around in his seat, and Skye looked at all the people in the car smiling back at her. “Could one of you explain because you’re kinda freaking me out. Why am I packing?”

Nat took her hand. “Why do you think?”

“Am I going somewhere?” Skye asked.

Bobbi nodded. “Skye, You’re going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooo, what did we all think? :) xx


	27. Skye's Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY
> 
> SO VERY SORRY
> 
> Get ready for some apologetic excuses. Ahem. Okay, here we go.  
> I am so very sorry that it has been ALMOST A BLOODY MONTH since I updated this fic. The thing is, I just got a new job, and I was meant to be working 16 hours a week, and have instead been working 36 hours a week. The hours I haven't been working, I've been either sleeping or doing the daily chores necessary to live. I REALLY SORRY.
> 
> ANYWAY  
> This is the last chapter....(WHAT? OMG. LAST CHAPTER? OH NO!)....the last chapter of this portion of the fic. The fic will be continued very soon (as in less that a bloody month omg) in another fic. This just seemed like a good place to end this one. I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with it, all of you guys on twitter and tumblr, and my friends I've made through writing this ([Stacy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stacymc2012/pseuds/stacymc2012) I'm talking to you!). I love you all.
> 
> ON WITH THE CHAPTER!!!

Skye was going home.

She was going back to be with Mommy and Daddy.

She was ecstatic. Happier than she had ever felt in her entire life.

And then she was worried.

First they were telling Skye she was going home, and she was so, _so_ happy, but then Clint mentioned something about Hunter going away and Bobbi got all quiet, and even though Nat was pretending to be all happy and excited, Bobbi’s quiet was distracting. Bobbi didn’t say much in the car. It was unnerving.

Bobbi was driving, so Skye couldn’t see her face.

“Bobbi, are you happy?” Skye asked the back of her head from the backseat.

Natasha and Hunter were sat to Skye’s side and both turned to her at the question. Nat put a hand on her knee.

“Of course Bobbi’s happy.” Nat said. “She’s just as excited as we are that you can come home.”

“I am.” Bobbi said. Her voice sounded quiet. Far away.

Skye frowned. “Are you sure? Don’t lie.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Bobbi said.

After that Natasha and Clint took over the conversation in the car, engaging Skye in discussions of packing her things and sleeping in her own bed. Bobbi didn’t speak for the rest of the car ride, and it didn’t escape Skye’s notice that Lance’s eyes seemed to flick over to his wife every few minutes.

Sometimes they underestimated her. Skye didn’t mind, it meant she could be a spy without any of her sisters even noticing.

When they got back to Bobbi and Hunter’s borrowed house, Skye found herself being ushered away to pack her things up with Clint and Natasha, while Hunter and Bobbi talked in the kitchen. Skye didn’t know what they were talking about, but with the news of Hunter going back to England, it didn’t take a genius to guess.

Skye wanted to hug Bobbi. She had wanted to go with them, to make sure that they were both okay, but Clint had said she was better leaving them to it.

“Come on, kid.” Clint said, taking Skye’s hand and leading her away from the closed door of the kitchen. “You and Nat start with the things in here, I’ll go upstairs and get your stuff from up there.”

“Kay.” Skye muttered.

Skye trusted Clint, but it didn’t take away from the fact that she still worried about Bobbi and Hunter. It was a strange mix of emotions going on in her mind. The elation she felt at knowing that sooner rather than later she was going to be cuddled up with her mommy and daddy was making everything feel fuzzy and giddy, but then she heard the rumble of Hunter speaking in the kitchen and a clear wave of anxiety sliced through her.

“Are they okay?” She looked at the kitchen door. “I don’t think Bobbi wants Hunter to leave.”

Natasha sat down on the floor next to her. She put an arm around Skye’s shoulders. Skye leaned into her. She rubbed her cheek on the soft fabric of Nat’s hoodie. It smelled like Clint.

“Bobbi’s going to miss him.” Nat said. “But he’ll be home soon.”

“With Jemma?”

“Hopefully.” Nat muttered. “Fingers crossed.”

Skye crossed them on both hands and held her fingers up to Nat’s face. Her sister chuckled and pretended to bite her hands.

“Stop!” Skye squealed.

“But you’re just so yummy.” Natasha said, tickling her sides. She gave up her torture and instead hugged Skye close. “I love you.”

Skye smiled. She wrapped one arm around Natasha’s neck and threaded the fingers of the other hand through her sister’s ponytail.

“Will you love me forever?”

Nat pouted. “What kind of question is that?”

Skye shrugged and looked at the carpet. Natasha’s hair tickled the tips of her fingers. “I wanna know.”

“Look at me.”

Skye did.

Nat put a hand on her chin. “I’ll love you forever. No matter what, Skye.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“Good.” Skye decided. She smiled. “I’ll love you forever, too. And that’s a long time.”

“Yeah. It’ll be the best forever we’ll ever have.”

…

As soon as they got into the house, Lance took Bobbi by the hand and led her into the kitchen. She tried to pull away from him, to follow her sisters into the living room, but the attempt was feeble and half-hearted at best. Lance squeezed her hand as he pulled her into the room. He closed the door behind them.

“What’s up, love?” Lance asked quietly, and as if triggered by some gentle tone in his voice, Bobbi burst into tears.

She covered her mouth with her hand and let out a chocked sob, eyes widening at the surprise she felt at herself for reacting in such a way. Lance looked terrified, stood frozen for a moment, and then wrapped her up in his arms and held her head to his shoulder.

“Please don’t cry, please, Bob.” He murmured to her, pressing his nose into her hair. “Please.” His voice caught and Bobbi felt his throat move as he swallowed. “Don’t cry, ‘cause you know whenever you cry, that’s me gone, too.” Hunter chuckled but Bobbi could tell it was forced.

She gripped his jacket and tried desperately to calm herself down, gasping every time another wave of sobs tried to overcome her. “I-I…” she shook her head, frustrated. “I don’t, um, I don’t even know w-why I’m crying.” Bobbi said.

Hunter wiped her cheeks with his thumb and kissed her nose. His eyes shone. “It’s alright. Everything’s alright.” He whispered.

Bobbi could hear Natasha talking to Skye, the tones of their voices carrying through but with no words to be recognised. She thought of her baby sisters being able to hear her crying and pressed a hand harder to her mouth. She was the eldest. Bobbi was _the_ big sister, she needed to be strong, not just for Nat and Skye, although they were extremely important, but Bobbi had Jemma to consider, too. Jemma needed Bobbi to be reliable and tough maybe even more than Nat and Skye, because Jemma didn’t have the amazing mom and dad they had.

“I’m sorry.” Bobbi told Hunter.

He shook his head and wiped at her damp cheeks again. “Never be sorry.” He said. “Not for feeling.”

“The kids need me to be the one who wipes away their tears.” She rubbed her nose against Lance’s stubble. “Not the other way around.”

“The kids need you to be there.” He cupped her chin. “But they need to know it’s alright to get upset, to feel things. Bob, you don’t need to be hard all the time. You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you so fucking much for that, but baby,” Lance kissed her forehead, “Bobo,” He smirked and she smacked him, “sometimes you just need to let it all out or you’ll combust.”

Bobbi let herself be rocked by her husband, resting her head on his shoulder and basking in his comfort. Lance pressed kisses to her hair and rubbed her back as her tears subsided and her brain began to organise her thoughts. She was happy, genuinely happy for Skye to be able to go home, and she was excited for Hunter to bring Jemma back to them, but the thought of him leaving make her stomach turn.

“I’m really going to miss you.” She told him.

“Me, too. It’s been a long time since we’ve spent a night apart.” He smiled. “Three weeks married and we’re turning into _those_ people.”

“What people?” She wiped her eyes.

Hunter shrugged playfully. “You know the type, so co-dependant that they can’t even go to the loo separately.”

Bobbi grimaced but smirked when Lance placed a wet smacking kiss to her cheek. “I don’t think we’ll ever be that close.”

“What about that night when you got drunk with Izzy and-,”

“Okay, point taken.” Bobbi cut him off, blushing. “Not one of my finest moments.”

Lance put his hands on her shoulders and looked intently at her. “I’ll be back with our Jem before you know it.” He said earnestly. “And you’ll have Nat and Skye to see to while I’m gone. I know you’re usually just used to keeping me in check-,”

“And it’s a big job.” She teased.

He rolled his eyes. “ _But_ in the mean time you can keep yourself busy with Skye.”

Bobbi nodded, and smiled. The thought of her baby sister being reunited with their parents tugged warmly in her chest. “Somehow I think Skye will be more preoccupied with mom and dad.”

Hunter laughed and pulled Bobbi back into a hug. “You know,” He said quietly, lips against her temple, “if I can get my mum to agree to it, to let Jemma come over here with me, she could be ours.” He paused. “She would be ours.”

“You’ve been more of a father to her than her own dad.” Bobbi agreed. “Hunter, you have to bring her home. I need to know she’s safe.”

“I will.” Hunter said assuredly. “I’ll bring Jemma home.”

Hunter paused, pressing his lips to Bobbi’s neck and nuzzling her ear. His grip on her tightened fractionally and he blew out a warm breath that tickled her ear and made her want to squirm in his arms. Bobbi kissed his jaw.

“Tony called me.” He said suddenly, and Bobbi pulled back to look him in the eye.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” Lance blinked slowly, eyes darting to the fridge where a set of alphabet and number magnets that didn’t belong to them had been haphazardly placed to make the room look ‘lived-in’. Someone, he suspected Bobbi, had spelled out the word ‘Teacup’ and encased it in a heart of other multi-coloured letters. He looked back to her. “He called before we went to pick up Skye from school.”

Bobbi waited for him to continue, but Lance instead began playing with the hood strings of her sweater. “Hunter.” She pressed, and he nodded.

“What if…?” He trailed off, sighing and rubbing one eye with the back of his hand.

She rubbed his arm and he smiled a little.

“What if…,” Lance continued, “what if we had a house of our own? A place we could have to ourselves, and,” He looked at the fridge, “we could put photographs up of our holidays on the fridge, and decorate a room for Jemma any way she wanted? We could have a swing in the garden, and maybe you could get a desk, you know, one with all those little drawers where you can keep all kinds of pens and pencils?”

Bobbi smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah.” Lance kissed her. “What if we could have that?”

“What if?”

“What if?” Lance repeated.

Bobbi imagined what if. She saw her desk, where she could draw pictures to go on the walls of Jemma’s bedroom, and she saw the little girl playing with her baby sister outside on swings. Bobbi thought about picking out paint for the living room, and bickering over the merits of hardwood floors versus carpet with Lance. He would let her get her way, of course, but the squabbling between them was more a show of love than anything else.

It sounded perfect. It sounded wonderful. It sounded like being home.

“It would be amazing.” She told Lance in a whisper. “One day we’ll have that.”

Hunter bit his lip. It was an action Bobbi saw frequently reflected in her younger sister’s expression, but for Lance, it was a rare sight.

“What?” She asked.

He let his teeth slide away from his lip, but they left tiny little indentations in their wake.

“Tony’s looking to get rid of the house.” Lance said quietly. Bobbi found her eyes drawn to the abused lower lip, but at his words, her gaze flashed up to his eyes. There was no mirth there, only sincerity. “Bob, he wants us to have the house.”

She blinked. “This house?”

Hunter nodded. “He wants to _give_ us the house.”

Bobbi’s brain seemed to shut down. “Oh.” She said, and stumbled back to sit down in one of the chairs by the table.

Lance followed her quickly and crouched down in front of her “I know it’s a lot really quickly, and I told him outright that we can’t just _take_ it off him for nothing, but I really think we should think about this, Bob.” He said quickly. “It’s a nice size, it’s in a nice area, we’re close you’re your mum and dad. It’s….” He trailed off, and Bobbi finished for him.

“Perfect.”

Hunter smiled sheepishly and shrugged, putting both hands on her knees. “Perfect.”

“Perfect things don’t happen to us.” Bobbi pointed out. She thought of all the crap she had been through as a child, the tumultuous teenage years, and even the more recent drama with Skye. “It’s too good to be true.”

“Or maybe it’s just our turn for things to go our way?”

Bobbi covered his hands with her own and laced their fingers together. He was warm, the heat of his fingers seeping through the fabric of her jeans.

“Maybe.” She murmured. Bobbi looked at Lance, holding his gaze solidly. “Do you want this, Teacup?”

He swallowed. “I want only to be with you, Bobo. That and to keep Jemma safe and happy. I want my girls with me, and that’s all I want. All I need.” Hunter squeezed her fingers. “We could live in a ditch, under a bit of tarp, and I’d be happy as long as I had you.”

She kissed him, harder than she’d first intended, and held him close with a hand on the back of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He kissed her again. “I love you so much, Bobbi.”

Bobbi scratched his scalp. “We can be happy no mater where we go, but…” she imagined the swings and the desk and the carpets and looked back into the loving eyes of her husband, “I want to make this our _home_.”

Hunter grinned.

“I want to bring up our children here.” Bobbi continued. “I want to be happy, _here._ With you, and Jemma, and our family.”

“I’ll get a job.” Hunter said, and then kissed her again. “I’ll come home with Jem, and I’ll get a job, and we can start paying Tony.” He smiled. “Our house. _Ours._ ”

“Home.” Bobbi corrected. “Our _home_.”

Lance huffed out a laugh. “Home. We’re home.”

…

Nat was helping Skye put the pile of books in the living room, back into one of the crates, when the kitchen door opened. Skye looked around in time to see Hunter kissing Bobbi’s head and then jogging up the stairs. Her eldest sister took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Hey, Skye. This looks like a cool book.” Nat said to her, but Skye’s attention stayed on Bobbi.

When she opened her eyes, she smiled at Skye and walked over to sit on the couch by her. Bobbi’s eyes were red. She gave Skye another little smile, but even the elation Skye was feeling at knowing she could go home was dampened by Bobbi’s expression. It was a hard one to figure out. A little part of Skye thought that maybe Bobbi was happy, but she had the look like she might burst into tears at any given moment.

“You’re sad.” Skye said, stepping past Natasha and climbing up on the couch with Bobbi.

“No, no.” Bobbi smiled. “I’m happy. I’m so happy I get to take you home to Mom and Dad.”

Skye shuffled onto her knees and reached out to hold Bobbi’s face between her hands. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” Bobbi said. She glanced to Nat. “I’m happy. Honestly.”

“But you look like you might cry.” Skye said, turning Bobbi’s face from side to side for further inspection.

Bobbi chuckled. “Skye, I’m fine. Promise.”

Natasha sat down on her other side and as Skye let her hands fall from her sister’s cheeks, Nat laid her head on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Bobbi sighed. She tugged Skye closer and the three sisters sat cuddling on the couch. “Maybe I am a little sad about Lance leaving, but I promise I’m happy about you going home, Skye. I’m happy about lots of things.”

Skye nodded. “I’m happy, too.” She held Bobbi’s hand. The rings on her left hand were sometimes cool to the touch, but today they were as warm as Bobbi’s skin. Skye wondered if Lance had been holding her hand. She looked up at Bobbi. “How long until I can go home?”

“Not long.” Bobbi stroked her hair and Skye leaned into her hand. When she closed her eyes she could almost pretend it was Mommy. A strong feeling in her chest panged and she suddenly thought she might cry. Bobbi spoke, and Skye managed to hold it together. “We’re just waiting on a call from Fury.”

“I like Nick Fury. He was nice.”

“He was.” Bobbi agreed.

“He had a cool eye patch. Like a pirate. Or a spy with an eye patch.”

“And when he calls, we can take you home.”

Skye rested her chin on Bobbi’s arm. Natasha reached over and stroked the skin peeking out from the top of her cast.

“You’re coming home, too, right?” Skye asked, looking up at her sister.

Bobbi closed her eyes. She didn’t say anything for little while, and Skye would have questioned her again, but Natasha was frowning at her older sister and Skye found herself watching the two of them, curiously.

Nat lifted her head from Bobbi’s shoulder. “Are you _not_ coming home?” She said quietly.

Bobbi didn’t open her eyes, but her mouth twitched and the hand stroking Skye’s hair, stopped.

“Are you going with Hunter?” Nat asked.

“This is something he needs to do alone.” Bobbi said. She opened her eyes but kept them downcast enough that Skye could almost believe they were still shut.

“Then where are you going?” Nat asked.

Skye sat up. “You’re going somewhere?” She questioned Bobbi, and her sister held up both hands.

“Stop it, both of you.” She said.

“You can’t leave me.” Skye said, the feeling in her chest returning with full force. She felt her lip quivering. “No. You’re not allowed to leave.”

“You’re not.” Nat agreed.

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “I’m not _leaving_ you.” She told Skye. “Either of you.” She eyed Nat.

Skye hugged Bobbi, and reached her casted arm out to hold Nat’s hand. “Good.” She murmured against Bobbi’s shoulder, relishing in the relief. “Good.”

“But-,” Nat began, and Bobbi cut her off.

“Later.” She said, and even though Skye didn’t know what that meant, apparently Natasha did, because her sister nodded and closed her mouth. She continued to frown, though.

Skye didn’t have much opportunity to dwell on the cryptic actions of her sisters, however, because at that moment, Bobbi stood and pulled Skye off the couch with her, taking her hand.

“Come on, the quicker you get your stuff packed the better.” Bobbi said, leading Skye over to where books and toys lay on the rug ready to be packed back into boxes.

She glanced at Nat, and her sister smiled brightly at her. That made Skye feel a little better, and she happily helped Bobbi place the Barbies in the box without suffocating them and crushing them with books. Somewhere above them in the upper floor of the house, there was a thud, followed by the distinctive sound of Hunter laughing hysterically.

Skye paused in her packing, and looked between Bobbi and Nat, both of whom were simultaneously rolling their eyes.

“What happened?” Bobbi called.

The sound of Hunter laughing continued.

“ _I’m fine.”_ Clint called back.

“You sure?” Nat shouted. She sounded concerned but she was smirking at Skye and Bobbi. “Did you hurt yourself?”

There was a pause. “ _Not exactly._ ”

Natasha breathed through her nose. “What did you do?”

Hunter came thudding down the stairs, grinning as he rushed into the living room. “The dipshit thought he could do a backflip off the bloody bed!” He howled, holding his side and leaning against the wall.

Skye didn’t know whether to be concerned for Clint or amused at his misfortune, but found herself giggling anyway when both sisters joined in with Hunter’s hysterics. Natasha slapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed, and Hunter collapsed down onto the couch.

Bobbi was shaking her head and wiping away tears by the time Clint emerged from the stairs, red-faced and looking a little sheepish. He scratched the back of his head looked around the room. Natasha seemed to quell her laughter into a bright grin, and she smacked Hunter’s chest, quieting him, also. Bobbi pressed her lips together.

“Are you okay?” Skye asked Clint, apparently a little more concerned for him than the others.

He smiled gratefully at her. “I’m fine, kid. Just misjudged my landing.”

“Or how close the wall was.” Hunter added.

Clint glared at him. “You said there was ‘more than enough room’.” He faked an English accent.

Lance blew out a breath. “I’m not the ex-circus performer here! Don’t blame me!”

Skye cocked her head at Clint. “You were in the circus?”

He shrugged. “Another story, for another day.”

Nat stood and wrapped both arms around Clint’s neck. She pecked his lips. “But seriously, are you okay?” She looked him over. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“ _I’m_ fine.” Clint said, then shared a quick glance with Hunter. “Your wall, however…”

Bobbi sighed, but when Skye looked over to her, she was smiling. “What did you do, Clinton?”

“My shoe, may or may not have created a small abrasion in your plastering.”

Skye scrunched up her nose. “Huh?”

Hunter stretched out his leg to kick Clint’s ankle. “His foot went through the bloody wall. Left a nice big hole.”

“Clint!” Nat smacked his shoulder.

“I’ll fix it.” He defended. “It’ll be fine.”

“Is your foot okay?” Skye asked, scooting over the floor to inspect it. One shoe had little flecks of white paint and dust around the toe.

“I’m fine, honestly.” Clint smiled at her and crouched down to give Skye a hug. She attached herself around him so he had no other choice than to lift her up when he stood. Clint kissed her cheek. “Thanks for being the _only_ one concerned for my welfare, Skye.” He eyed the others in the room with a faked contempt.

Skye smiled and cuddled into him. Whether it was the knowledge that she would soon be going home, or just the fact that she was getting more and more tired the further on the evening went, Skye was feeling particularly clingy and she was pleased when Clint hugged her tightly and showed no signs he was going to put her down anytime soon.

Clint looked over to Bobbi. “I promise I’ll fix the hole.” He said.

“And I’ll help.” Skye added. “I helped Daddy paint the fence, you know. I’m a good helper.”

“You are,” Bobbi agreed, “but it’s Clint’s abilities I’m not confident in.”

“Hey.” Clint whined, and Nat laughed from her place next to him. “I can fix a hole in a wall. Right, Nat?”

“Sure.” Nat said, smirking at her sister.

He grimaced. “You could sound more confident about that, Tash.”

“Sorry. _Sure._ ”

Clint huffed. “Now that just sounded sarcastic.”

Natasha kissed his cheek. “I love you. I don’t care about your ability to fix a hole.”

“Me, too.” Skye said, copying Nat and kissing Clint’s cheek.

Hunter jumped off the couch. “Me, too!” He grabbed Clint’s face and smacked a kiss on his forehead. Skye squealed as Hunter grabbed her out of Clint’s arms and flung her over his shoulder. “Come on, trouble. We’re going to get the rest of your stuff from upstairs.”

Skye waved to Clint and her sisters as Hunter carried her upstairs. They waved back, all grinning, and Skye giggled to herself, giddy with how much she loved her family. Even as Hunter turned the corner and her view of them disappeared, Skye continued to let the warm feeling of _family_ wash over her. Hunter pulled her back into his arms properly as they entered the bedroom she had slept in, and held her secure.

“We’re a funny old bunch, aren’t we?” He said, tickling her side a little.

Skye giggled and nodded. She noted the distinctly foot-shaped hole in the bottom of the wall opposite the bed and couldn’t help but smirk.

“It’s a good family to be dragged into, isn’t it?” Lance smiled. “I think we landed on our feet getting a place in this family.”

“It’s the best family ever.” Skye agreed. She let her cast-arm rest against Hunter’s chest and looked down at the drawing there. The family were happy, just like Skye’s real family. “We’ll be all together soon.” She looked up at Lance. “Won’t we?”

He nodded. “We will be.”

“Good.” She smiled.

“Yeah.” Hunter walked over to the bed and sat down on it with Skye in his lap. “Listen, littlun, I need to have a quick chat with you.”

Skye’s heart sank. “Am I in trouble?”

Hunter’s face fell. “No, darlin’, no, no, course not.”

“Oh. It’s just usually when grown ups say they ‘want a chat’ or something, it means something bad.”

“This isn’t bad.” Lance said. “I need a favour from you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be gone for.” He said. “It shouldn’t be more than a week if all goes to plan, but…”

Skye took his hand. “Not much goes to plan?”

“Exactly. And the thing is, Bobbi needs someone to keep an eye on her. When I’m gone, I mean. Bobbi sometimes thinks she needs to be hard as nails, but I know her better than anyone. Sometimes she just needs a cuddle.”

“I can do that.” Skye smiled. “I can give her hugs.”

Hunter mussed her hair. “I know, treasure. That’s why I’m asking you to be head Bobbi-watcher.”

Skye squared her shoulders. “I can do that.” She said confidently. Keeping a close eye on her sisters was something she was doing already, keeping an even closer one on Bobbi seemed like more of a privilege that a chore. “I’ll make sure she’s okay, Hunter. I promise.”

Lance saluted her. “Agent Skye, I trust you completely with this mission. You do this, and I’ll be off doing one of my own.” He passed Skye her blanket from the other side of the bed. “We better get all your stuff in the car, then, Agent Skye.”

Agent Skye was brave and strong, like Bobbi and Natasha. Agent Skye could do anything. She thought that even though Hunter liked to play the villain when they played spies, Agent Hunter was really a good guy. Agent Skye thought that she would always like Agent Hunter to be on her team.

“Hunter?” Skye asked.

He hummed. “Mm?”

“Is your mission to bring Jemma back here with you?”

Lance sighed and smiled. He flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes. “It’s a mission I can’t fail, Skye.” He said quietly.

Skye climbed off his lap and moved to sit up by his head on the bed. “What happens if you fail?”

“I lose my baby.” He whispered.

She petted his hair like Mommy did when she was upset or tired. Hunter opened his eyes and smiled up at her. Skye hoped she was being comforting. “Is Jemma your baby?”

“She is.” He said.

“She’s your sister.”

Hunter sighed. “She’s more than that. It’s hard to explain.”

“No it isn’t.” Skye said. “I don’t think it is.”

“No?”

She shrugged. “Are you her daddy?”

Lance closed his eyes again. “I’m her big brother…I was the one who took care of her, the one who fed her, and clothed her, and kept her clean and happy.”

“That sounds like a daddy to me.” Skye commented. Her hand stilled on Hunter’s head. “That’s what my daddy does.”

Hunter sat up. “It’s complicated.”

Skye hopped off the bed and picked up a bag of clothes waiting to be taken down stairs. She smiled at Hunter, and it took no imagination whatsoever to picture him as somebody’s daddy. “Hunter?” She said. “I don’t think it’s complicated. I just think you’re a different kind of daddy. A brother-daddy.”

He smirked and quirked an eyebrow at her. “And that’s not complicated?”

“Nope.” Skye smiled. “It just proves how much you love Jemma.” She didn’t know Jemma, had no frame of reference for her relationship with Lance other than Lance’s descriptions, but Skye didn’t need anything else. You didn’t need eyes to see how much he loved Jemma. “I hope you bring Jemma home.”

“I think you two will be fast friends.”

“Roger that, Agent Hunter.” Skye said.

He gave her another salute. “Over and out, Agent Skye.”

…

After her little breakdown in the hall, Shannon had been quiet. Nicky had taken her to his office, but she had felt a little embarrassed by her outburst and had instead decided to keep herself to herself and let him continue with whatever work he was doing. He tried to initiate conversation every ten minutes or so, but crying had taken it out of her and she couldn’t really be bothered to make the effort.

Their meeting was meant to have taken place over an hour before, but apparently he had some pressing work to complete, and really, Shannon didn’t mind huddling in the corner of Nick’s office and reading some of the books he had there. It was nice just to have some different reading material from the worn books at the orphanage, and she relished in the quiet. Back at St Agnes’, one was hard pressed to find even a corner of the place to get some peace.

A lot of the books Nicky had in his office were for the little kids, filled with more pictures than words, and so Shannon was finding herself ploughing through them at quite a pace. She replaced one book that had featured a little girl going to visit her father in Africa, and took down the next one on the shelf. It wasn’t like the others. This book was more like the ones in the orphanage, with an abused spine and torn front cover. It wasn’t a picture book either, and when Shannon turned it over to read the blurb, she found the story to be one that was not unfamiliar to her.

“That used to belong to Maria.” Nicky said, and Shannon looked over to where he was still sat at his desk. He smiled at her and pointed to the book with his pen. “She loved that book. Left it here with a bunch of others when she went into the marines.”

Shannon looked back down at the back cover. “ _There’s a scary story here for everyone._ ” She read aloud. “I know this book.” She told Nick. “My aunt had it. I used to be scared because it had a creepy face on the cover, but she used to tell me it was just a picture and it couldn’t hurt me.”

“Well, she was right.” Nicky said, going back to his work. “Although, Maria was obsessed with that kind of stuff so she was all for pictures coming to life. _Scary Stories to tell in the Dark_ , indeed.”

“I’ve got plenty of scary stories that don’t have ghosts and stuff in them.”

Nick frowned. “What was that?”

Shannon shook her head. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.” The cover was torn straight though the creepy face. “I’m not scared anymore.” Shannon felt the need to clarify.

“That’s good.” Nicky said. “Maybe when you see Maria again, you guys can read it together.”

The tear in the cover suddenly seemed very important, and Shannon ran her fingers over the ridge it had caused in the paperback. The face lined up, and instead of the feeling of fear and dread the image had dredged up in her when she was small, she felt only fondness at the thought of Maria reading to her. The thought alone was enough to make Shannon blush.

“Do you really think Maria will want to come and see me?” She asked. “You can tell her she doesn’t have to.”

Nicky looked up and his face softened. “I think she wants to.”

“But why?”

“There are lots of reasons why.” He said. “You can ask her when you see her.” Nicky stood from his desk. “Now listen, kid, I need to make a call. I’ll be five minutes, will you be okay?”

Shannon nodded, eyes already back on the book. She gently opened the cover. “Sure.”

Nicky left, closing his office door behind him. Shannon didn’t look up, instead she was enthralled by the words on the first page of the book, words that weren’t originally meant to be there, words that someone had felt the needs to write in a bold black script.

_‘If you find this book, no matter where you find it, please return to Maria Hill.’_

“Okay.” Shannon murmured to herself, tucking the book under her sweater. “I can do that.”

…

Fury didn’t have to wait long for Bobbi to pick up. His paperwork was all done, everything had been approved that needed to be approved, and after only one ring, Bobbi had answered his call.

“Hey.” Fury said, as soon as she answered. “Everything’s in order. Get that kid home.”

There was a pause on the line.

“ _Yes, Sir._ ” Bobbi said.

“Good.” Fury smiled. “I’ll call your parents, let them know. And Bobbi, if you ever need anything else, just give me a call.”

“ _I will do, sir. Thank you so much.”_ The woman sounded so sincere that Nick worried he might also begin to soften up.

“I have to go.” He told her. “I don’t like how emotional this is getting.”

Bobbi laughed. “ _Sure thing. Thanks again, Mr Fury._ ”

“Goodbye, Mrs Morse-Coulson.”

“ _It’s ‘Hunter.’ Mrs Hunter. Or it will be.”_

“Goodbye, Mrs Hunter.” Fury found himself chuckling when he put the phone down. Whether it was with amusement at Bobbi, or simply because he was a little giddy with the knowledge that he was sending little Skye back to her parents, he couldn’t say. And it didn’t matter.

When Phil Coulson answered his phone, Fury didn’t need to spend time on any pleasantries.

“Your little girl is coming home. I can have her adoption finalised within the month. Congratulations.”

_“I…what…she, Skye, she-,”_ Phil stuttered.

“She’ll never be taken from you again.” Fury assured. “Have a good night, Mr Coulson, give my best to your wife.”

Fury hung up after that. He was done. He had a little girl going back home, one more child with a loving family. It was what made his job worthwhile. One more smile, one more hug, one more happy family.

“Nicky?”

He turned to see Shannon poking her head out of his office. One more kid who needed a break.

“What’s up?”

She held her arms to her chest and shifted form foot to foot. “You can say ‘no’,” she said, cocking her head to the side and looking far younger than her almost twelve years, “but I was just wondering if maybe, you could maybe, only if you wanted to, you could call Maria and ask her if she maybe wanted to come and see me.”

The glistening hope in her eyes could have broken his heart ten times over. Nick slung an arm over her shoulder and steered her back into his office. “I’m sure I could do that.”

“Yeah?” She rose up onto her tiptoes.

“Yeah.” He patted her head, feeling a little disconcerted when he realised just how much the little girl had grown over the past few months. He sat down at his desk and directed her to the set in front. “How about this? I’ll call and you get that book out of your shirt?”

Shannon looked down, cheeks a burning red. “I wanted to give it back to her.”

“And you can. But you can do that without stealing. Okay?” Fury smiled when she looked up. “You’re a foster system army brat. Don’t give into the stereotype.”

The girl giggled. “Yes, Sir!” She stood to attention.

“Alright.” Fury dialled the memorised number he had for Maria and handed the phone over to Shannon.

She took it but gaped at him. “What do I say?”

“Be yourself. Tell Maria you’d like to see her again.” Fury smiled.

Shannon frowned. “But what if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Kid, if she doesn’t want to see you again, I will eat my eye patch.”

She nodded. “Good deal.”

…

Phil dropped his phone onto the couch. He blinked at Melinda.

“Was that the call?” She asked quietly, rubbing both palms over her knees.

He swallowed. “Yeah.” Phil croaked out. “Um, yeah. She’s coming home.”

Mel stood, nodding. “For real?”

“Fury says he’ll have her adoption finalised by the end of the month.” The words felt stale and unreal coming from him, and Phil felt the need to reiterate his point. “She’s going to be ours, really ours.”

Melinda practically stumbled the last few feet between them and fell into his arms. Phil caught her, but only just. His ribs ached, and his arm stung, but nothing mattered, none of it.

He kissed her hair. “Our Skye’s coming home.” Phil whispered. “She’s coming home.”

…

The car was full. Skye sat in her car seat with Mr. Snow on her lap, and her feet resting on a crate of books and a bag of clothes. The trunk was filled with Skye’s toys and Hunter’s suitcase, and it had taken both Clint and Lance to get it closed.

Bobbi was driving. Hunter was riding shotgun. Clint and Natasha were both in the back of the car with Skye.

Skye’s tummy felt funny.

“You okay, baby sis?” Nat asked, nudging her arm with her elbow.

“I think so.” Skye answered. It was a strange feeling, because it wasn’t unfamiliar, but it just seemed misplaced. The tight feeling in her chest and the sickly feeling in her tummy, was one that Skye strongly associated with being nervous.

She was going home. Skye couldn’t think of any reason _why_ she should be nervous.

“Natasha?” She asked.

Her sister turned to her. “What’s up?”

“I’m nervous.” Skye told her in a whisper. She felt embarrassed to admit it and she didn’t want Hunter or Clint to hear her, although the way Clint was singing the song from the radio at the top of his lungs suggested that he wasn’t in any danger of paying her any attention at that moment.

Nat hugged her. It was a little awkward when they were both strapped in, but somehow they managed it. “What’s making you nervous?” Nat asked her.

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her nose in Mr. Snow’s fur. He still smelled like Mommy. “Is everything going to be like it was before?”

Tasha took Mr. Snow’s paw and tapped it on Skye’s cheek. “No.”

Her stomach clenched. “No?”

“No.” Nat reiterated. “Skye, it’s never going to be like it was before, because now it’s going to be better.”

“It was already the best, how can it be better?”

“Because,” Nat shrugged, smirking when Clint attempted and failed to hit a particularly high note, “this time it’s going to be permanent. And no one is _ever_ going to be able to take you away.”

“Never?” Skye took Nat’s hand and held her thumb in the fingers poking out from her cast.

Nat kissed her nose. “Never _ever_.”

The sick feeling Skye’s tummy didn’t go away, but it became dull enough to ignore. “Maybe I’m excited now.” She told her sister. “I want to see Mommy and Daddy.”

Tasha grinned. “Can I just ask,” she said, “when did ‘Phil’ become ‘Daddy’? I think I missed that.”

Skye shrugged. It was a hard question to answer. “I dunno.” She said honestly. “It just, happened, I guess.”

In the front seat, Hunter and Bobbi were holding hands, which Skye thought probably wasn’t exactly safe to do while driving, but they were going pretty slow. He wasn’t looking out of the window, instead, he was watching Bobbi, smiling.

“I think,” Skye said, “a daddy is someone who loves you, and who takes care of you, and who makes sure you’re safe and happy.”

“That sounds about right.” Nat nodded.

“Yeah. And for them to be a daddy, you have to love them back, and you have to trust them.” She turned to Nat. “That’s why he’s Daddy now.”

Natasha leaned her head against Skye’s. “I love that you’re in our family, Skye.”

“I love it, too.” Skye said. She caught sight of the scenery out the front window and tightened her grip on Nat’s thumb as the car began to slow.

“Look, Skye.” Hunter said as they pulled up. “You’re home.”

…

They waited in the living room until the sound of a car pulling onto the driveway had them both out of their seats.

The tears began before anyone had even opened the front door. Melinda couldn’t help it. The sound of the car was enough to set her off and maybe it had something to do with the baby growing inside of her, but if she was being totally honest with herself, it was all down to the baby girl with whom she was waiting to be reunited.

Her little Skye.

Phil stood behind her with a comforting hand on her shoulder. They waited together for the door to open.

And it did. Slowly, the doorknob was turned, and the first thing Mel saw was the blonde of her eldest daughter’s hair as she poked her head around the frame. Bobbi grinned, looking between her parents.

“I brought a little something for you.” She said, and Mel held her breath as she pushed open the door to reveal the most gorgeous little girl she had ever seen, grinning back at her and gripping her white fluffy bear.

“Baby.” Mel breathed, dropping to her knees.

Skye pushed Mr. Snow into Bobbi’s arms and sprinted across the room, throwing herself at Melinda. Mel caught her baby, holding her tightly to her and not even attempting to disguise the fact that she was sobbing.

“Mommy, don’t go. Don’t leave me.” Skye cried, tiny fingers gripping her neck and pulling at strands of her hair. The cast on her arm grazed Mel’s cheek when Skye pulled back to kiss her, but she didn’t care.

“Skye, oh, baby.” She kissed her face all over. “I’m never letting you go. I’m so sorry. I’m never letting you go.” The cut on Skye’s head was still covered with a band-aid and Melinda kissed it gently. “My little girl. I love you so much.”

“Mommy. Mommy, I love you.” Skye whimpered. “I wanna be home.”

“You’re home now, sweetheart. Home now.” Melinda wiped Skye’s tears from her cheeks. The little girl nodded.

Her daughter kissed her again, and then reached out a hand behind Mel’s shoulder. Skye still had one hand tangled in Melinda’s hair when she whimpered and made a grabby gesture at Phil.

“Daddy?”

Phil dropped to the floor beside them both. “Skye.” He gently held Skye’s cast. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Daddy.”

“Yes?” Phil asked, brushing the damp stands of dark hair away from their little girl’s face.

“Daddy, I love you.” Skye flung her arm around his neck. “Daddy, I’m gonna be here forever, right?”

“Of course.” He kissed Skye. “Of course.” Phil kissed Mel. “Skye, you’re my daughter.” He held their baby’s face in his hands. “You are _our_ daughter and we are going to be together forever.”

Skye looked from him, to Melinda, and back again. “Forever’s a really long time.”

“Good.” Mel said, and Skye cocked her head to one side in question. “Good, because I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with my babies.” She pulled Skye into her lap. “Forever won’t ever be long enough.”

Her little girl touched her cheeks gently with the soft pads of her fingers. “If I could choose anyone to spend forever with, it would be with my family.”

“Here, here.” Hunter called from the group of kids by the front door.

Bobbi thumped him with Mr. Snow, but it was without malice, and he wrapped her up in a loving hug straight after. Nat and Clint stood together, arms around one another, and not for the first time, did Melinda thank all of her lucky stars that she had been blessed with such a wonderful group of people to be in her life.

“I love you.” She told them. Skye’s little arms tightened around her. “All of you. I love you all so much.”

“Even Hunter?” Nat smirked.

Mel rolled her eyes and kissed Skye’s cheek again. “Even Hunter.”

…

When it was hours later, and everyone had been fed. When Skye had spent hours clinging to Daddy and even longer holding onto Mommy. Long after Mommy and Daddy had explained adoption to Skye. When Bobbi had weepily taken Hunter to the airport and then gone back to their new home, and Clint and Nat had long since gone off to bed, Skye and her parents curled up together in the master bedroom, snuggled under the duvet.

Skye’s Daddy had cried when he had seen her return home. Mommy had, too, but something about seeing Daddy cry had really made Skye realise just how much she was loved. Her chest didn’t feel tight anymore, it was warm and happy and perfect.

Her Daddy was fast asleep, he had been for a long time, now, and Skye was content to hold onto her Mommy’s hand and watch the rise and fall of his chest. She loved him. Skye really loved her Daddy, and her Mommy, and her sisters and Clint and Hunter.

“I love you, Daddy.” She whispered, and reached over to press a kiss to his nose. He scrunched it up in his sleep and Skye giggled. She moved Mr. Snow into his arms and her dad sighed contentedly.

Mommy was sleeping, too. Skye was supposed to be as well, but she was just so happy to be home, her mind wouldn’t let her drift off. But she liked seeing Mommy so peaceful. She liked pressing kisses to all of Mommy’s fingers, and tracing Mommy’s eyebrows with her thumb. Skye watched the sleeping woman with one hand in Skye’s and the other resting softly on her belly, and she thought that there couldn’t possibly be a more beautiful person in the world.

“Mommy.” Skye breathed. “You’re my Mommy.”

Skye lifted Mommy’s hand off of her belly and replaced it with her own. When she pushed up Mommy’s pyjama top, she could see the tiny swell where the little baby lived.

“Hello.” Skye mumbled, lips against her mother’s skin so that the baby could hear her. “’Member me? I’m Skye, your big sister.” She waited for a response, just in case. “I was gone for a little while, but now I’m back, and I’m gonna be here forever. I’m gonna be your sister forever.”

The baby didn’t reply, but then, Skye didn’t expect it to. It was still so small.

“When you grow up a little bit, and you get born, I think I might like to hold you.” Skye whispered.

Mommy’s body shifted slightly beneath her, but Skye continued to speak to the baby.

“I wonder if you’ll have dark hair like me and Mommy. I’d like that.” She said. “Maybe you’ll be a boy, and then I’ll have a brother. But don’t mind if you’re a girl. I don’t think we can know yet.” Skye felt her Mommy’s hand come up to stroke the back of her hair. She kissed her belly. “Do you have a name yet?”

“Not quite yet.” Mommy said in a whisper, and Skye looked up to her. “We’ll have to think of some names, huh?”

“Yeah.” Skye said. She gave the baby one last kiss and climbed back up the bed to settle beside Mommy. “Mommy?”

“Yes, gorgeous?”

“Are you really going to adopt me?” Skye touched Mommy’s lips with her fingers and she kissed them, holding Skye’s hand in hers.

“I don’t need a court and a piece of paper to tell me that you are my daughter,” Mommy said, “but I want to tell the world how privileged I am to have you call me your mother. I want nothing more than to adopt you, Skye.”

“And then will I be ‘Skye Coulson’?”

Mommy smiled. “It’s a new start. A new life. Baby, you can be _whoever_ you choose to be.”

Skye cuddled close to her mother, resting her head on her chest. “I can be whoever I wanna be?”

Mommy kissed her. “Anyone.”

She closed her eyes and let her thumb drift into her mouth. “I can be anyone.” She mumbled. “I always kinda liked ‘Daisy’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah...last chapter. Keep your eyes peeled for the next instalment: 'I'll Keep Fighting For You Because I love Nothing More'
> 
> I love you guys, hit me up on social media and let me know what you thought. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Review please. Let me know what you thought. :) xxx  
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